#and i wanted to do a wind chime themed drawing too! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katsukikitten · 4 years

Text

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, mentions of animal harm, sexual themes, god/fantasy au for BNHAREM this badboi is 8k so enjoy~

The sound of a wind chime echoes across the small field just outside your home. The breeze carries the smell of summer bloomed blossoms and with it the threat of rain as it comes from down the mountain.

A soft brown creature catches your eye as your mother picks flowers and berries for the festival.

“Bunbun!” You exclaim, pointing as you tug on your mother’s tattered kimono, she responds with a soft hmm. Her eyes still focused on the wide range of flowers although her vision blurs.

But at least you weren’t picked for this festival, no it would be many years before you would be in the running. Your mother’s only wish was for you to be unfavorable. Mother is so engrossed that she does not see you slip away, slowly following the bunny into the forest.

Soon the soft brown creature begins to hop, faster and faster as you giggle running full speed ahead. Not noticing how the trees thicken or how dark eyes seem to peer through the trees, their mawls salivating with unsated hunger. With gnashing teeth they stalk ever closer all the while you rush to catch the creature just for it to jump high into the air. Nose diving straight for the ground, you copy its actions but the bunny is faster than you. Slipping into the burrow with ease as you fall face first into dirt and rocks.

“O..ow. Momma!” You sniffle, turning around for some much needed motherly love, but instead of your mother hunched over collecting boring things in her basket you are met with a dense forest. The setting sun washes over the trees giving the thick pines and maples a ghoulish red hue. Suddenly you are hyper aware of the sounds around you, a stick snaps in the brush. Your head turns as if you were a startled deer, eyes wide, heart racing as you strain to hear over the rushing blood in your ears. Dark figures move in the long shadows and haunting laughs echo around you. Beady eyes shine in the darkness causing a small whimper to leave your lips. Acting on instinct you rush to your feet, running through the woods. Briers snatch at your small ankles, leaving angry red lines in their wake, wanting nothing more than to make you a child of the forest.

“MOOOM!” You shout, panting as they force you further into the mountain, you take a quick left when one jumps from the right causing you to trip over a branch falling into a small clearing, faintly you hear the rush of a spring.

Scuffling rouses a sleepy garnet haired man who lounges in a steaming hot spring, that’s sprinkled with fallen petals of mountain flowers. He thinks to dismiss it until a scream cuts through the serenity of the pines. Whatever animal it is, it sounds small and this stirs something in the mountainous man. Sadly this was the circle of life, he reminds himself as he sinks deeper into the burning hot spring.

“MOMMA HELP PWEESE!!” You scream, trying to get up but this time you are entangled in a briar patch, thorn and vine twisting around your tender skin. It seems the wicked green plant will have its wish.

All the while the shadows stalk closer, their bright beady eyes blown wide as their jaws unhinge for their meal. They get on their haunches to launch themselves at you until something causes them to freeze. The trees shake around you while the Earth rumbles as if there were a thunder storm beneath the rich dirt.

“Hello little flower. Are you lost?” You whip your head towards the sound. Lip quivering as you stare up at a tall, built man. But it was his eyes that stood out the most.

His glistening rubies glow as fading sunlight catches his hair, emphasizing that the strands are a red so deep one could mistake it as black. Your eyes play tricks on you as the air seems charged and yet calm, giving him a surreal aura. He stands tall, half relaxed as one arm is lazily hanging from his dark rose kimono while the rest of his sculpted body is exposed to the slowly cooling air. You weigh your options as best you can before you scramble to your savior. Clinging to his leg as your tears begin to stain his kimono.

He breathes in deeply and before he can speak the dark figures vanish, melting into the shadows that stretch in the last winking light of the Sun. He crouches down to you, pushing hair past your face.

“Don’t cry little flower. Here.” A beautiful flower crown appears in his hands. The white petals with contrasting amethyst stripes down the center seem to have their own shimmering bio-luminescence making it feel other worldly as he places it atop your head. He chooses the dietes flower for its symbolism and rarity, unknowingly sealing your fate.

“Is that better, little one?” You nod in response, sniffling softly as he scoops you up walking you until he can just see what must be your home through the thick trees. He watches what he assumes your mother to panic, as the village shouts what must be your name.

“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way okay little flower?” He sets you down gently before you give a big nod. Cold bare feet crunching the leaves against the forest floor.

You come into the clearing of your home, the sea of yellows, pinks and reds winking in the stark light of the moon.

“Momma…” You call softly, the world stops turning on its axis before she rushes to you, pulling you into her arms before her eyes are filled with overflowing fear. Fat droplets leave her long lashes as she snatches the crown away, but it is too late. It has been seen by all.

“Oh she is favored by the Gods.” Someone comments.

“If she grows into anything like her mother she will be the best choice to appease the Mountain God!"

"Let us mark this day and the family name so we may remember 16 years from now."

They continue to gossip as your mother squeezes you tight enough that it hurts. Her mind racing as she carries you inside, she tucks you in without a word of a scolding. Coaxing you to drink some lavender tea that pulls you into a deep sleep beneath the symphony of crickets and the like.

You do not hear your mother return and if you do, you guess she is doing her nightly routine. Fluffing your blankets and making sure your futon is warm enough but what you weren’t expecting was the cold bite of a blade pressing into the flesh above your left eyebrow.

"Mom…Momma’s sorry baby.” She chokes on her sobs as she pulls the cool metal hard and deep, crying so loud she can barely hear your scream.

But that was how long ago? Almost two decades? You toss a rock into your reflection, distorting your marred face as your childhood flashes before your eyes.

You remember there was shouting, lots of shouting of how you are now “unfavorable” “dishonorable” “an abomination” the next day and from then it’s a blur of insults and isolation. Nothing but the wind in your hair, the creaking of the trees and a dream of glistening rubies kept you alive, desperate to return to the last time you were happy. Although you were unsure of who you saw in the mountain that fated night, a part of you could guess. It had to be the Spirit of the Mountain, Kirishima. Because who else actually looked like the painted scrolls that littered the village and shrines? In your opinion they had his image all wrong.

He does not scowl or wear a grimace, no his smile is sharp toothed and bright. You sigh, wondering if you will ever bump into him again.

An inhuman scream tears through the serenity of the babbling brook causing a chill to run through your spine. If you had to guess it was most likely a fox or wolf finally catching up to its meal.

“They must eat too…” You murmur to yourself, drawing your knees to your chest. The wind rustles the leaves overhead giving you sharp visions of beady black eyes from the past.

“Don’t let it get away!” A shout from your left before the animal comes scurrying through the brush, running smack into your lap. It is a small fox, its tail missing and in its wake a crude weeping cut. Your vision blurs red as you take off your top layer of kimono, wrapping the poor thing in the brown fabric.

The culprits come into view, the village elder’s son holds the tail while his favorite goon holds the knife. Red falls to the Earth in nauseating droplets.

“Well well well, looks like we found something else we can carve up huh?” The goon asks with a smile, “Just keep quiet freak."

The elder’s son is hesitant, something odd grows in his eyes and chest. Suddenly the tail feels a lot heavier than what it was moments ago, especially so under the weight of your single gaze. Your left eye although clouded over seems to stare straight into his soul. Can you see the desperation he has? Worst yet can you see how tainted he is?

"Oi Kenji” The goon nudges him, clearly only hanging around the future heir for his influence and with it a hope of immunity to terrorize as he pleases.

The motion brings him back to the present while a plan begins to form in his head. Would anyone believe the dishonorable, disowned freak over him? Could he do things to you that no matter how loud you screamed the truth it would fall on deaf ears?

His cruel smile is an answer in of itself as he takes a step towards you, it wouldn’t be hard to make you his. You take a step back, mindful of the sun’s position and your surroundings. They both creep nearer as you hold the shaking animal to you, you turn on your heel rushing through the woods. They were fast and well trained however no one knew these woods like you did.

It was as if you knew of every fallen leaf or broken branch as you rushed through the deep green leaves. Dodging low branches that they hit face first, holes they tripped in and even a dead deer carcass that you bound in a single leap. You hear a crash and one of them gag as your feet urge you forward, looking over your shoulder.

That is until your run into something so solid you fall right onto your ass, the small animal gives a whimper on your lap.

“I could have sworn…” The sound of rushing water swallows up the rest of your thought as you look up to what you’ve run into. Wholly expecting a tree stood a man, with deep garnet hair and a sharp toothed smile. Immediately your blood turns cold, the air about him seeming other worldly as the forest quiets and slows in his presence.

“Ah, are you alright?” He asks, extending his hand to you, gingerly you take it. His calloused hand is warm and strong as he lifts you to your feet, ruby eyes staring at the bundle in your hand.

“May I?” Hesitantly you pass the bundle, he frowns at its contents before setting the small fox on the ground, waving his fingers to heal its wound. The fox looks at the healer, seemingly giving him a small bow before rushing back into the safety of the brush.

“The fox told me what you did. Thank you.” His smile is blinding and dazzling. He offers you a single white flower, the amethyst stripe up the middle causes your stomach to tighten.

“Do you always give out good fortune?” You ask quietly, turning the wild iris over in your hand. He laughs, if he recognizes you he does not show it but you are sure this is the man who gave you an abundance of “good fortune” years ago. Your scar burns from the thought. Your mother did tell you stories of the Gods playing cruel jokes.

But was Kirishima truly a maleficent God?

You bit your lower lip. A warm hand cups your chin, a soft smile on his face as he turns your left side to you.

“Do I know you dear heart?” His voice is soft, eyes half mast almost lazily gazing upon your features. You tuck the iris in your ear and it seems to jog his memory.

“Little flower!” His voice becomes larger, sharper, as his thumb swipes over the deep fissure on your cheek “What happened?!"

His touch is comforting but not enough you wish to relive the trauma again.

"I wish not to speak about it.” Your eyes catch the position of the sun. Gently you step from his soft grip.

“I must return home for dinner before I cause my mother to worry.” You bow formally, presenting the flower “Thank you Kamisama but I cannot accept your blessing."

You stand like that long enough your back begins to hurt causing a deep fear to flow through your veins.

Was he angry that you dared to reject him?

Your feet burn with the urge to run but you dismiss it, finally his large fingers grasps at the small stem holding the rarity in his hands. Eyes roving over you, you peek up to check his gaze and while he looks level headed to you, you decide to leave before you find out if he isn’t.

He stares after you, eyes curious and yet not surprised as to how he could have forgotten about someone as remarkable as you.

But how could he remember?

You are nothing more than a mere mortal and you were a child at that. A blip, a hazy day dream even, in his infinite lifetime.

So what interest would he have in a life so fleeting that should he rouse from a nap he would be meeting your great grandchildren who could remember nothing more about you than your name?

And yet when he looked at you now, as a full grown woman, something bloomed in his chest. Your scar adding to your mystic beauty, especially after what the fox had told him.

His ruby eyes return to the flower as he ponders over your question in his head.

A week or so passes, as you’re sure to avoid the Mountain God. Still fearing he may be angered by your rejection.

But you cannot stay from the depths of the forest long. Staring down at your reflection in the water you sigh, running your hand through the cool water debating if you will bathe in one of the many hot springs tonight. A scurrying in the bush pulls your attention to the here and now. Muscles rigid as you worry it will be an encounter with the heir and his goon, shimmering orange rushes from the brush easing your mind.

"Ah hello friend!” You call and the fox stops in its tracks, task or hunt at hand long forgotten, “Did His healing power work?"

You cannot help the glee in your voice as you see your friendly fox sit near your feet, it swishes its tail and just like that another seems to appear. Wagging like an opposing pendulum beside the other.

"You have two tails now, oh” You give a sly smile, “Are you here to steal my liver?"

The kitsune chuckles at your joke, his little laugh echoing in the clearing. The haunting sound brings an odd comfort to you as he tilts his head as if someone is whispering to him. He gives a small nod before approaching, setting something in your lap that his black lips were not holding before.

A note of sorts and the flower he attempted to offer you earlier. The note reads in glowing golden red hue,

"Let’s start over again. Tea by the blue moon wild flowers at midnight.”

You sigh deeply, placing the card and flower deep in your tattered kimono with the thought of not showing up. Why would a God want tea with you? You who wears a scarred face and milky white eye. You give the kitsune a soft pat before standing, brushing the dirt from your deep brown kimono.

You spend the rest of the day as you told your mother you would, picking flowers to both practice arranging and drying for the upcoming festival. There were only a few weeks left and you had done zero practicing as you has promised. Your mother claimed this would help earn your keep with the village but you were sure that was more for her peace of mind than the truth.

With your basket heavy with the finest of flowers you head towards home, careful to avoid the path you last saw the God on.

And anytime you had thought you caught wind of his intoxicating smell of soft musk, pine and the biting threat of snow you turned on your heel as quickly and quietly as humanly possible, ignoring the gemstone gaze that bore into your back.

After a small dinner with your mother and hours of twisting flower streams to make crowns of, you finally get the chance to lie down to sleep.

But sleep doesn’t come, instead you’re wide awake as the moon leaks in the through the small cracks in the walls. Dust dancing on the low light as you sigh as if you were in love.

Deep, unsatisfied and often.

The invitation burns in the folds of your kimono and suddenly you are filled with action. Gently you rise, fumbling with your hair as best you can before you mumble curses to yourself. Placing a practice crown on your head and rouging your lips with the remnants of berries before you set out into the darkness.

Your feet seem to guide you on your own as you weave through the trees. Fireflies lazily floating in the air as crickets scream their symphonies at your feet. Finally you come across the mostly hidden spot.

Hesitantly you step into the clearing, blue moon flowers glitter in the light of the quarter moon as if sprinkled with stardust. Their silver sheen invites you in further as a wind sweeps through the patch. Your eyes rove over as you look for the Mountain God. When your search comes up empty you feel your heart free fall into your stomach. Heated foolishness creeps into your throat and cheeks.

Why would a God invite a mortal?

Blinking away hurt tears you turn briskly, stopping yourself from running from the clearing incase he is watching for the sake of his cruel joke.

That is until a deep voice rings out, vibrating the very bones in your body with a comforting hum.

“Little flower, Are we not having tea?” His tone is innocent and when you turn around with half a mind to fuss you see it. A beautiful hand woven rug that holds a low tea table, atop the dark wood sits finary. Foods, desserts and tea ware that would make the emperor jade green with envy.

“This is…” You whisper but he reaches his hand towards you, gently guiding you to a plush cushion, his strong hand wrapped steadfast around yours. He waits until you are seated comfortably before he sits close to you.

Almost too close, his shoulder could easily brush against yours in movement and it does as it takes you an eon to realize what exactly he is doing.

Preparing the tea. Immediately your stomach flips as shaking hands fumble to stop him, grabbing onto his large hands with a fervor unmatched. A quizzical look before a sly smirk paints his handsome features.

“A..a..a God should not be serving a m..mortal tea.” You trip over your words feeling self conscious as your palms feel is if they are sweating. Shame radiates through your chest as if a hot rod were shoved through your heart.

“Then let us not be a God and a mortal.” He smiles, lips curving upward gently as his shining teeth glint in the low light. You should be scared, frightened that you may have insulted him or worse yet earned the infamous Wrath of the Mountain God.

But you aren’t, if anything you’re on the complete opposite of the spectrum as the breeze shifts his scent closer to you. The forest alive at night, the sharp smell of snow mingling with the gentle fragrance of bloomed flowers.

Suddenly you feel dizzy and his next words do not help.

“Let us be more.” Again you feel the comforting hum in your chest, you decide now is a good time to let go of his hands.

He sets the tea before you, again you are faced with a pitiful reflection. You blow on the green liquid disrupting the steam and with it your image. It is quiet save the sounds of late night summer although it is not uncomfortable silence that passes over the hours between the two of you. It is easy as the two of you sip your tea and for a moment you think you’ve forgotten the sin you’re committing by forgetting who he really is. Occasionally the two of you would share a laugh, his shoulder brushing against yours before he comes closer, close enough your forearms touch as they rest against the table. His skin feels warm and smooth like a rock baking in the sun, his smile dazzling as his face seems to get closer. His finger hooks into your palm, lazily tracing the lines as if they were an old and familiar map.

“Why do you love the mountain forest so much?” His voice is so close you feel breath fan your cheek. Butterflies take rapid flight in your stomach.

Was it that obvious? I guess it would be with how much of your life you spent within these thick trees.

“There is so much to love in this place of solace. Every new clearing brings something of wonder. A waterfall, a field of flowers, a hot spring to soak your aching bones. Even just a small fawn grazing on the seeds the trees and flowers offer is more beauty than I can imagine."

His fingers stop, leaving an odd tingling sensation causing your nerves to stand on edge. Attempting to reach towards the soft touch once more. Kirishima looks to the moon and how it begins to set.

"Another day little flower.” He whispers, voice honeyed yet sharp as you find yourself standing on the edge of the woods, staring at your small home. You turn in a full circle and see no sign of the God causing your heart to grow heavy. Gripping at your chest as you make your way back towards your home, you thought maybe he didn’t like your answer. Maybe he read your honesty as a poor attempt of flattery.

What you don’t know is that he liked your answer a little too much.

It isn’t long before you find yourself in the same patch of flowers at a questionable hour sitting beside Kamisama himself. You swallow thickly, nails biting into your palm as again he pours your tea.

Is this right? Would your mother approve?

You were sure she wouldn’t, and not from your lack of manners but seeing the very man she so feared and having tea with him nonetheless.

“Something troubling you my blossom?” Flustered over his familiarity you stammer out a response.

“Just…just thinking.” You offer a shy smile as he returns a wolfish grin, you do not know that he can hear just how fast your heart is beating.

“Hmmm.” The hum rumbles in your own chest and large bottle flies take flight in your stomach. He brushes some hair out of your face so he can better see it. He smiles softly.

“I’ve been curious about why you are collecting so many flowers lately.” Rigid beneath his touch you fear you have angered him but it won’t be long before you realize just how infatuated he is with you.

“A festival for you Kirishima, Kamisama of the Mountain.” He lets his fingers play and twist in your hair. You try not to look away.

“You’ll be the guest of honor then?” His fingers brush down your heated cheeks.

Despite the intimacy of both his touch and proximity you give a loud laugh. Eyes looking at a blurred green version of yourself in your cup.

“No, I’m sure I could never be favored.” At least not by the villagers.

But you seemed to be favored by the Gods. You swallow thickly, of all the talk and importance of the festivals your mother never let you attend, so you are unsure what happens.

While you’re left home alone you could hear the loud beats of the drum, their feet hitting against the stone of the square and their joyous singing.

Sometimes you think you hear a scream.

But you cannot reflect on it long as a pair of soft lips press against your cheek. Then when you do not move they graze along your jawline before finding their way to your pulse. You give a small gasp and when he gives a small suck you a raspy moan. He growls against your throat, a sudden heat grows between your legs and you swallow desire whole.

He feels how tense you have become and eases up from your throat. Guiding you by your chin so you may face him before he steals away your first kiss.

Not that you would have given it to anyone else.

The next month is a game of cat and mouse. Both of you eagerly seeking the other out, yet making it seem as if it were a mere accidently. All the while a now three tailed fox smiles knowingly. It’s a blur of tea, mountain top views over valleys, and deep passionate kissing.

But this last encounter truly was by pure chance for both parties.

The pungent smell of sulfur tickles your nose, although this is the least offending spring. Its water a lovely milky blue that you’ve decorated with a few left over flowers heads. You sigh as you sink deeper into the borderline scalding water being sure to soak your aching hands and feet.

You’re thankful that the rushing water settles here in this cluster of rocks despite the small current that carries it away just a few feet down. A sigh leaves your body, eyes lingering to the light of the full moon before they flutter close. Your guard completely down as you know no one is going to be wandering around these woods.

It is the night of the festival after all.

And no one was sure as hell gonna be out looking for you.

Not even Kamisama as you were sure he would oversee the festival, it was held in his name was it not?

Sleep threatens to pull you beneath its veil so much so you do not hear the footsteps that approach.

He steps closer to the spot of his favorite spring and when he sees your head titling back onto the rocks, a fine blush blooms on his cheeks.

“My little hana?” His voice is soft yet concerned, startling you. The water splashes around as you turn to face him.

If you were flustered before you’re beyond that now. He has his back to you as he gives your privacy, face slightly turned but his eyes are not overlooking his shoulder. Your eyes widen as they take in His beauty. His hair tied up in a messy bun, winking blacks and deep reds beneath the moonlight. His broad shoulders exposed, eyes trailing down his sculpted back to see his bare buttocks. Strong, thick legs holding up this God of a man.

Well he was a God wasn’t he?

“Are you alright, lovely blossom? I didn’t know you’d be here I can come ba…"

"No. No no!” You interrupt, “I…"

It’s silent for a moment, lust moves your lips.

"I wouldn’t mind the company.” Your voice is barely heard over the swirling, rushing water.

But the smirk on his soft lips tells you that he had heard you. And he will never forget the invitation.

He turns to join you, your eyes following down the trail of his abs to his pointed V, you do not allow your eyes to travel further south and force them to his face. His glowing eyes bright, two shining rubies lighting up the night. He sinks into the water across from you, letting his arms spread and rest on the rocks.

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Sinking into the water as you realize just how exposed you are. The weight of his gaze is doing something to you.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours, the heat of the spring makes you a bit dizzy and you’re beginning to wonder if it is his merlot eyes that have you on cloud nine.

That have you so bold. Bold enough you float yourself beside him, right into the crook of his arm. He gently slides it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest.

“How was your day my sweet?” His voice is soothing but you’d rather not recount your day or the number of flowers you set just right.

“Boring. Yours Kirishima?” He smiles as you use his name.

“Same.” He places a chaste kiss to your damp hair line. It leaves you wanting more.

“A..again please?” He goes to kiss your forehead again but you tilt your face upward. He smiles, putting his hand at the nape of your neck. Leaning in impossibly slow holding your gaze. His look makes you impossibly higher and then his kisses your lips.

It is soft, it is slow, but each movement of his lips become more feverish, more bold. Like a cracked dam after a rain far too heavy, it is going to burst.

And it does.

Your mouth openes to him and he slides his tongue between your teeth, swirling and tasting your earthly, mortal form. You moan into the kiss, giving him more entrance, your hands clawing at his hair, his back while his hands follow your curves. Running up and down your sides, pinching at your nipples turning you into putty in his hands. You do not resist, you would never deny him and you’re sure he would never take.

He does nothing more than light exploring, commiting your skin to memory. You let out another moan, this one louder than before enticing his primal needs. As his tongue slides over yours his hand snakes to your lower back, pulling you into his lap.

You feel his harden asset resting close to your throbbing sex.

Would…would it be okay to bed a God? For a mortal to be touched by hands that can create and destroy in a matter of nanoseconds?

Suddenly you feel too hot, too flustered, too high as the world spins rapidly on its axis. You push back, gasping for air and immediately his lust is replaced with concern. He sees tears forming in your eyes, signs of some internal battle.

It reminds him of when he pours you a cup of tea but tenfold. He looks up at you, one hand traces down your spine before his other wipes away your tears.

“Blossom for me when you’re ready not when I want you, my little flower.” His voice is soft, reassuring, causing you to cry more. His fingers gently trace your scar, follow your spine, and continue to wipe away your tears when needed.

You nod helplessly, removing yourself from his irresistible lap, he pulls you to cuddle. A soft kiss to your hairline. The moon begins to climb higher in the sky and although your mother will not be home for some time, you still need to beat her home. Maybe he can read minds as he says.

“Let’s meet later tonight? Our usual time after your mother has returned home?” You nod against his chest, slowly stand. He supports your weight as he holds onto your hand as you ease out of the comforting water.

You look for your brown kimono but with every second you cannot find it panic seizes your bones.

“M…my kimono. I…I can’t find it!” You realize you may have misplaced it or worse yet placed it too close to the water.

Oh Kami did it get washed away?

“Flower, love. It is fine. I can help.” He snaps his fingers and you’re adorning the most stunning kimono you’ve ever seen. More so than what any painting of any God and Goddess meeting you’ve ever seen. You twirl in the ombre kimono. It starts out black, like a moonless night at the top before lightening until it is put glowing starlight at your ankles.

“Its gorgeous. But it is too much."

"Nothing is too much for you.” He stands, a kimono appears on his body as well, ombre again, black at his shoulders until it is blood red at his ankles. The bottom reminds you of the first time you had seen him when you were little. When he saved your life, a halo of setting sun emphasizing his status.

“We will meet again?" You nod and he cannot bring himself to say he is going to the annual meeting of the Gods because if he did, with you wearing this star woven kimono, he would whisk you away with him.

"Until we meet again."

With the sound of the window fluttering through the trees you find yourself on the fringes of the woods, just outside your home.

Gingerly you step into the field of flowers, slowly walking towards your house as you relive the time you most felt alive.

His lips, his hands, his body pressed against yours.

So caught up in your daydream, in your promise of later tonight, you do not see the eyes lying in wait.

Those prying eyes take note of your kimono and how it shimmers and shines with an otherworldly glow as you slip into your home.

It isn’t long before you hear a string of screaming and see a set of lights coming your way, close enough you can make out silhouettes and what the woman is screaming.

"SHE IS UNFAVORED! LOOK AT HER SCAR SHE IS TAINTED BEAUTY!” You realize quickly that is the wails of your mother.

Frantically you try to strip yourself of your kimono but a large hand strips away the door. Your faces are illuminated from the soft glow by your ankles making it clear to see a set of hard steely eyes with hurt but never regret as they should.

“Just like I said. A blessed kimono.” Kenji’s voice is as hard as his eyes as his father peers in, he smiles with delight.

“We are surely saved from the drought now. Kenji bring her to the festival."

"No.” Your voice is small, a foreboding dread feeds your panic as your mother cries, restrained by Kenji’s goons. You step back but he lunges for you, squeezing you so tightly you cannot breath.

The walk to the center seems like ages as you kick and scream, crying out for Kirishima.

“Yes call for our God. He will be happy to receive his gift, time is running out.” The elder speaks. You elbow Kenji square in the face, everyone panics as you begin to run. Kenji catches you again. The moon hands high over head, perfectly in the middle of the sky.

“There is no time left. Let’s do it now!” Kenji’s goon from before shouts, sending the crowd into a boisterous agreement.

Kenji withdraws his knife, both of your struggling for power. He leans in close, nose touching yours as the smell of copper and ash cling to his skin.

“You should have just stayed in your place ugly. Should’ve let me have my way.” He slices at you and for a second time a blade marrs your skin.

He is supposed to make this quick for you, one quick motion against your throat. Instead he lets the blade sink deeper, carve harder until his is splatter in your life’s nectar. Only you and your mother cry out. The rest of them pray and sing.

Kenji picks you up and tosses you into the brush of the woods.

“Have her now Kamisama and bless us with rain!” He speaks as if he is the current elder. Grey eyes cold as they look down at you. They retreat to their usual planned activities, dragging your lost mother with them to drink to their heart’s content. To make her watch what an honor it was for her child to have been chosen.

It hurts, Kami it hurts as you drag yourself through the woods. Briars tangle around your quickly growing limp limbs as you pull yourself deeper.

“Kiri…Kirishima!” Your once loud screams turn into hardly more than whispers. But that shouldn’t matter. He should still hear you shouldn’t he?

Was this not his domain? He can hear every rustling leaf, every snap of a twig, surely he could hear the pained cries of his lover.

No, no you shouldn’t call yourself that, you were not his lover, you were just favored by him.

And isn’t that always what you wanted? To be desired? Loved?

This was a festival for Kirishima himself so why did you think any different?

And why do you still call out his name?

Your vision blurs in purplish blues and blacks as you fade in and out, a soft sweet scent is tainted with stinging copper. You cough and more dark liquid sputters from your lips.

It reminds you of his eyes.

Kitsune comes into the clearing helping frantically. But you smile as you notice his fourth tail.

“At least I will not die alone…” You breathe as the fox attempts to lick at your wounds, “Why, why is he so cruel?"

Fat tears fall down your cheeks and the fox panics further. He opens his mouth, his voice comes out gravely and close to a growl without the animosity.

"Master does not know of this, master would never allow this!” He laps at your blood in a desperate attempt to heal you with what little grace he has been bestowed.

But it doesn’t matter as your world fades to black.

Kirishima steps through the portal near the top of the mountain to be met with a horrid sight, not realizing it could be worse than that. Kitsune’s normal Auburn fur is tainted a sticky black substance, Kirishima gets a closer look causing his blood to run cold.

He appears in the field of flowers, following the trail you left as a wispy form of you stands through your drained body.

“No.” Quiet before deafening loud, birds and animals flee away from him, “NO!"

The shades circle the clearing, too afraid to enter but too hungry to leave.

Kirishima shakily grabs onto your glowing hands, tears fall down your cheeks.

"I…I…” Tears prick his eyes, rage washes over his features, “Who?"

Your spirit cannot speak as you are still tethered to your fast cooling body. He follows the direction of your eyes, music and laughing become louder further angering him. A thought occurs to him, he reaches for the small golden chain that is at your spiritual ankle connecting you to your real body, he could keep you here, he could….but before he can break your life’s chain a mist of black appears.

"You know you cannot do that.” From within the mist comes a man with the head of a raven or a tengu, Kirishima is not sure. All he knows is that he loathes to see Death come too close to the things he loves.

“But.."

"Look around you Kirishima-kun. You’ve tried countless times to keep mortals before and what becomes of them? Shades, unwavering, thoughtless hungry shades as I’ve told you. Their spirits are so far corrupted they could never return to the cycle.” Death speaks the truth but it does not stop the anguish that sweeps through his body.

He cannot allow it just yet. He watches as your golden chain is unhooked, you walk backwards, keeping your eyes on your God as Death guides you.

“Until we meet again.” It is a whisper on the wind, a rustle in the leaves, a huff of a nearby fawn and babbling of the hot spring. He nods, eyes glued to you as you fade away into the black mist.

He breathes deeply as he picks you up, cradling your cold body to his hard chest. He walks gingerly with you as if he feared he would wake you, he only had on destination in mind. It does not take long before he is walking towards the center of the small town, houses darkened as the square is full of life. The smell of wine and food waft the cool air.

This only fuels his intentions.

He stands on the fringe of the crowd and it only takes a blink or two before the roaring party dies to deafening silence. People falling to their knees, their foreheads pressed into the bloodied bricks.

“K..Kamisama Kirishima, had we known you would grace…"

"SILENCE!” His voice shakes the very foundations of the homes, the shingles clinking in the wind. The trees quiver in his presence as the Earth seems to roar beneath his feet. His eyes are hard and dark like raw diamonds as he looks over their merriment shredding them with his gaze alone. The moon above suddenly glows red as if washed over with your blood, illuminating him in an ominous tone. The hue paints the village in eerie light as it fully bares witness to the wrath of the mountain God.

“Is this how you honor me?” A rhetorical question as he wonders how long this had been going on, the shades most likely and happily, eating the remains before Kirishima could have ever found out. He shakes, unable to reign in his rage.

“Look at her.” Three words, three words has well over fifty people shivering. Eyes barely coming up to look at the limp woman in his hands, skin already graying. Both eyes now clouded over and lips stained a peculiar red. Their eyes shift to the God they worship, the one they had been giving their most beautiful women too.

He holds eye contact with each and every one of them for a moment, staring into their black souls with a malice that could maim. He spies your mother, his lip snarls as he thinks of your scar.

He begins to wonder if this is why she had done it. He finds the elder, the one who wears the fine kimono. One of the few garments that is not tattered, dirtied or sullied red. He grinds his teeth.

“May you never forget this moment in all of your reincarnations. May you never forget her face and may you always feel an inkling of what I’ve felt.” The people weep, not for their own lives but from the feeling of the God’s heart overflowing in them despite him never shedding a tear. They do not ask forgiveness.

They cannot ask for forgiveness. Just as he sealed your fate all those years ago, he is sealing theirs now. With a stomp of his foot the Earth rumbles, slowly opening up into a jagged mawl. People scream as they reach for one another, grasping onto nothing. Only your mother waits for death silently. Her own tears streaming down her face as she etches into her last moments the sight of her failure. Of you taken from the world too soon.

The village is swallowed whole and now that it is over, he is still unhappy. The void in his cheat is far deeper than the Earthy chasm before him. He cries out in anguish pulling you impossibly closer. A fissure runs through the ground, deep and fast through the next village and the one after that.

In a loud puff of smoke a man appears beside the mountain God, he pulls down his black hood and his hair shines gold in the moonlight. His eyes like molten lava gleam with destructive glee. The Earth threatens to crumble beneath the new God’s feet, the dark chasm glows a bright hot red in his presence.

“No one ever strikes your ire.” His voice is dark yet excited, “And never enough to summon me. Need some pointers from the God of Destruction himself shitty hair?”

“Bakugou, I…” The mountainous man’s voice cracks, causing his friend’s brow to furrow. Bakugou takes in the sight of you withered in hands through ghastly means. Of the decimation and the level of it. Reaching over to another village and possibly the next two. This level of destruction would get the Mountain God into a lot of trouble but it was evident he did not care. Bakugou gives his back to the sight and finally speaks, lying a warm hand on his friend’s broad shoulder.

“If anyone asks, I destroyed the villages.” Molten eyes watch tears fall onto you and the ground beneath his friend’s feet. The golden haired man sighs, gently taking you from the arms of his friend who tries to desperately hold on to what is left of you.

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” A rare comfort from his companion, he takes your small frame and turns. He is going to gently lie you in the cooling Earth. A destruction God destroys in order for something new to be created. He plans to give his only friend a blessed grave for you so he can visit until, what Bakugou hopes but heavily doubts, Kirishima forgets.

“W..wait. wait. She needs…” His voice shatters as with shaking fingers he creates the very thing he had intended for you to have. Good fortune in the shape of deities or wild irises, circling one another to be a stunning crown. Instead of white they glow gold as he sets it atop your crown. Kirishima squeezes your limp hand a final time before letting you go. Bakugou breathes deeply as he works, pulling the ground back together with sheer force as the lava recedes. He does so until the two shelves barely meet, a rich bed of soil lies before his feet. Gently he lies you in the bed of dirt.

“Ashes to ashes.” Your body ignites from within, glowing in a golden flame until there is nothing left but dust on the wind and the golden flower crown. Bakugou pulls the dirt over your remains.

Kirishima falls to his knees, pressing his hand into the Earth, fearful he will forget a mortal like you, a mere blip in his infinite lifetime. The ground beneath him bursts and blooms in great color. All deep reds, golden yellows and blinding whites for miles.

“I will always love you my little flower."

The summer breeze feels warm as it rouses the scent of rain and the sound of chimes. You close your eyes and day dream of something long forgotten, of stories retold from an old book of legend you never read. Nervousness thrums through your veins as you stand beside your ash blonde friend, patiently waiting for the third party to arrive. The impatient man growls beside you as he spots someone he recognizes behind you.

"Oi shitty hair hurry up! Iris and I have been waiting here all damn morning!” Bakugou shouts, using your hero name. You turn to see your new patrol partner for future missions. The sun illuminates behind him, almost giving him a heavenly glow and you realize that there is something odd about the man who approaches you. His long flowing garnet hair is unruly in the wind, shining a red so deep in hue you first mistake it for black. His smile is sharp toothed and easy, causing a swarm of butterflies to take flight in your stomach. With your heart hammering out of your chest you cannot shake the feeling that something seems off about him. It is both other worldly and familiar, you feel as if his name sits on the tip of your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as his glowing ruby eyes drink you in. He sees a faint mark traveling through your left eye as if it were a fading scar, maybe it was something you could not shake from a past long forgotten. His heart hammers in his chest as he speaks, your reaction to his next words will tell him what he needs to know.

“Hello my little flower, it seems we meet again.”

#kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #bnha god au #bnha fantasy au #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha 18+#bnha kirishima x reader #kirishima god x reader #bnha eijirou #bnha eijiro kirishima

1K notes · View notes

ktheist · 4 years

Text

03 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content, fingering, mild exhibitionism

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. “why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?”

saturday evening, taehyung comes up to you with a face of a blank canvas, phone in his hand facing the ceiling and relays the news of his break up.

you’re in the middle of watching a show with his two brothers on your laptop.

“wh-what?” is all you manage to say whilst namjoon and seokjin freeze in their spots.

“i broke up with her,” taehyung’s shoulderline rises as he casually shrugs.

“but why?” deep down, you have an inkling - but your mouth moved on its own before you can even stop it.

“cause she was shit talking you,” and with that, he twirls around, heading back to the hallway where one of the doors connect to his room.

and just like second nature, your body shoots up, trailing after the slumped man like a mother to her pupper.

“you guys watch without me,” you briefly say to the two men on the couch, their faces scrunching with growing concern.

for the first time in a long time, you and taehyung bare your hearts to each other. talked about your fears and hopes and what keeps you going. which is, to an extent, each other and the two brothers. you’re not sure how you fell asleep but you wake up with a leg sprawled all over your stomach and a snoring sound echoing against the wall. the blanket draped over you and taehyung isn’t part of his bedset because one, you and taehyung end up sleeping on top of the sheets and two, you know the only one brother out of the three loves the color blue so much, his bedsheets and blankets are always themed with light cerulean. and this blanket - you’ve definitely seen seokjin use a dozen times.

"hey, morning,” you greet the two brothers whilst they’re unpacking what seems to be takeouts from a store you all collectively agree have no bad item in their menu.

everyone eats just about anything from that restaurant.

“morning, sleepyhead.” namjoon shakes his head, smiling - it’s probably the hair pointing in different directions.

“how’s taehyung?” seokjin asks when you come to sit on the stool next to where he’s standing.

“well, i mean - he’s not in a good place,” you begin, “i know he really liked her. and i know she talks shit about me behind my back and she knows i do too and he’s always caught in between, but he always seemed to brush it off and never take sides you know? so i didn’t think he’d break up with her over it.”

“hey, it’s not your fault,” the hand on your shoulder is warm, seeping into your heart as you examine the sincerity of those brown eyes, down to the reassuring smile of those plump lips.

“thanks for saying that, jinnie,” you want to ask for a kiss (and maybe some dick) but with namjoon - though he’s cluelessly continuing with his task of preparing the takeouts - around, you settle for patting his hand that’s on your shoulder.

after washing your face and returning to the kitchen, you find the previously sleeping-like-a-long giant perched on one of the stools, rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes.

“look who’s up!” a smack lands on taehyung’s back.

the aforementioned man doesn’t even flinch as he takes another second to rub all the sleepiness away before craning his neck to look at your smiling face - it may be a dumb smile but someone’s got to be lifting the atmosphere.

“i thought you left,” he grumbles, before his arm snakes around your waist and brings you in for a side hug.

the recoil is almost automated as your smile scrunches into a cringe, arms flailing to push him away and at least get a few inches gap in between,“ew, what the hell.”

“i’m sad! gimme a hug,” he laments whilst namjoon laughs, commenting something about how “adorable” the two of you are and how it “...reminds me of the good old days, you know?”

he means when you and taehyung aren’t as resistant to skinships.

but all your attention goes to the eldest brother whose glance lingers a second too long before he tears his gaze off from you and taehyung.

it turns out that little bitch tried making taehyung choose between you and her after he’d texted her (in an attempt to placate her jealousy-prone heart) about how you’d opted to room with seokjin in yesterday.

give them and inch and they’ll take a mile.

“i should’ve known,” taehyung shakes his head, bags heavy under his eyes as he lies in his bed, cocooned by the light cerulean blanket, “you don’t like her but you like everyone-”

“don’t you go justin bieber on me,” you smack him in the stomach, to which he curls up into a caterpillar, moaning in pain and something about suing for personal injuries.

but the fact that he can complaint at all means that he’s recovered half of himself.

“i’m getting some food from the kitchen, you want anything?” you roll your eyes.

“how bout a new girlfriend?” he manages to say, despite the so called blow to the stomach.

“potato chips it is,” you nod before strutting out of the door.

the hallway is dimly lit, save for the lone light in the ceiling and the slightest bit of gap that allows luminescence to pour out of seokjin’s room. so you knock on the door, leaning against the frame, “hey.”

kim seokjin sits on the chair you previously occupied the night before, round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as his eyes widen for the briefest second before offering you one of his warm smiles, “hey, how’s taehyung?”

“he’s eating,” you shrug, trying to appear casual even though something in the way his shirt swallows his already broad built and making him appear like you can fight him and win - gets your heart doing flips.

“that’s gre-” he can’t even properly get his response out because you’re already crossing the short distance between you and him, hands cupping his cheeks before smashing your lips against his. as if you haven’t had water for days. as if you’ve been breathing with your head barely above water.

his hands find their way on your hips, kissing you back more delicately than you can ever control yourself. tingles dot your skin from where his hand caresses your elbow and travels up your arm, lingering there, as though forgetting the reason his warning touch.

“i needed that,” you break away only to steal another kiss before confessing.

seokjin chuckles, his hand slipping over to your chest before attempting to pinch your nipple. to which he fails because your padded bra successfully blocks him off.

“oh, you’re wearing a bra?” the genuine surprise gleaming in his eyes should offend you.

“unless you want your brother accidentally touching my nips while we were wrestling each other to decide who gets to use your comfy as hell blanket,” you roll your eyes.

taehyung won, obviously. which explained why he was lying in bed like a human burrito just now.

“i’d have to give taehyung a personal beating if that happened,” the dorky grin and amused glint in his whenever he cracks a not-so-funny-but-adorable joke, isn’t present.

your heart’s always done this thing where it skips with every smile that curls on his lips, yet the lack of it and the underlying seriousness of his tone is making your heart lurch in your throat, warmth spreading all over your body.

“anyways, i need to get taehyung some chips, thanks for the kiss.” you wave but something wraps around your wrist like an iron hold seconds before you find yourself perched in seokjin’s lap and the man dangerously close to you - despite having shared a passionate kiss just a moment ago.

“taehyung this, taehyung that,” his hand slips under your shirt, coarse hand trailing up your back until you feel him unhooking your bra in one go.

like he’s had enough practice in the art of seduction.

“well, he’s the one out of the four of us with a broken heart,” you pray to the constellations and deities that your voice is levelled though it soon proves to be pointless if his other hand’s snaking up your front and hovers over your chest where he could feel the organ beneath beating wildly.

“you’re breaking mine though... with spending that much time with my brother,” he traps your nipple in between his thumb and index finger, caressing, teasing with a smile that ironically has probably broken a few hearts of his own.

“i can fix that,” you beam, finger tracing down his front and down to the waistline of his pants, to which you can’t reach unless you scoot away to allow your hand to -

“not right now,” the sound of wind chimes drum in your ears as he chuckles.

it makes the umpteenth rejection a little less prickly, as you pout, “when?”

“soon,” and with that, he takes your wrist in his hand, making you push your own shirt up until your nipples are bare in the open, “hold this up for me, please.”

it’s the please that gets you.

ever the gentleman even as he’s about to tease you with his teeth against your nipples and his free hand fondling your other breast.

“why are you doing this if you’re not gonna fuck me?” you grunt, displeased, but arch your back anyway to make it easier for him to suckle and bite on your erected nipples.

you’ve always thought his hair looked soft but it’s softer as you bury your free hand in it. at first, it’s just a gentle caress - just like patting a golden retriever. but then as his tongue lapse over your protruded nub and the pressure in his free hand in your other breast grows more intense, you’re surprised he’s not moaning out in pain from the way your hand’s instinctively grasping at his roots.

“ah!” a yelp escapes you when he leaves your left nipple for the other one, biting down harder than you’re used to but not enough to draw blood.

you’re lost in the pain and pleasure of his tongue and apt fingers, where his mouth isn’t sucking on your nipple, his fingers are pinching and groping it. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctively remember a midly pressing matter-

“what the fuck?”

something about a heartbroken best friend and an unclosed door.

"t-taehyung!” you gasp, body almost jolting upward like a criminal caught red handed but seokjin’s arms around your body roots you down in his lap as he slowly pulls down your shirt before turning his attention to his youngest brother.

“taehyung, calm down,” he instructs with ease but his wide-eyed gaze is filled with concern.

“this isn’t-” you begin, slipping away from seokjin’s loosened grasp to pad over to your best friend who looks like he’s seen a ghost or his brother and best friend almost-fucking. either one works, “this isn’t what you think.”

“no-” the younger cups his mouth as he doubles over, his other hand held up in the air as if to tell you to “stay the fuck back-”

“oh, come on,” the slightest brush of your nipples against the material of your carelessly-pulled-down bra makes does not go pass you, yet you put your hand on your hip, rolling your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic.”

and that’s when taehyung hurls his guts out in front of seokjin’s door.

note. ooof

i wasn’t sure if this drabble was gonna gain any eager readers. when i say eager, i mean those who look forward to an update, but some of you showed interest and it warms my heart! so here’s to another update! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics !

332 notes · View notes

oikawaplssteponme · 4 years

Text

PART 3 | previously: part 2 | masterlist

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: swearing, fighting

synopsis: When UA’s hot heads, Katsuki Bakugou and you, are forced to put your hatred for each other aside and plan the third year Prom, things end up getting a little heated...

a/n: hello friends, i hope you all are doing well<3 taglist is open so just lmk if you’d like to be added :)) enjoy xx

•

three: sorry

You sat through the rest of class, watching your classmates battle each other. You wrapped up the cut on your arm and you were good to go. When the school day was finally finished, you headed back to your dorm and changed out of your uniform and into something more comfortable. You began to head down to the basement when you came across Todoroki.

“Hey Shoto, sorry about that,” you said nervously, pointing to the bandaid on his cheek.

“Don’t worry about it. You put up a good fight and looks like I got you too ,” he replied.

“Barely. You better beat me next time,” you smiled. He nodded.

“Don’t worry, I will.” You and Shoto parted your ways and you went down to the basement. The door was propped open. Bakugou was flipping through the folder that Aizawa had given you both.

“Hey…” you said. He didn’t look at you.

“So uh, how should we split up the work?” You asked. He still ignored you. Getting annoyed at this point, you snatched the folder from him.

“HEY-“

“Listen, you were the one who said you wanted to split up the work for this fucking dance so we have to talk in order to have that happen. What’s going on? You seem more pissed off than usual,” you complained. Bakugou looked at you, gritting his teeth.

“I’m fine dumbass. Just tired,” he mumbled.

“Sure you are.” You grabbed a stool and sat next to Bakugou. He rolled his eyes.

“Well damn you don’t need to be that close to me,” he said. You sighed, losing your patience.

“Bakugou, we both need to take a look at the papers. If I could I would be on the other side of the world to stay away from you.”

“Whatever.”

You looked down at the list of everything that needed to get done.

“Okay so for starters we should order the stuff that will take longer to get here. That would probably be decorations and stuff like that,” you said.

“We’d need to pick a theme before we order decorations,” replied Bakugou.

“Oh true. Okay um, any ideas?” You asked. Bakugou got up, walked over to a box, and pulled out 3 magazines. He sat back down.

“The theme packs that are crossed out are ones that have already been used. The themes circled are the ones within our budget. And the ones with check marks are the themes that we could get but we would have to cut back on other stuff to pay for it,” explained Bakugou. Your eyes widened.

“Did you organize this?”

“Yeah. I did it after class.”

“Woah…”

“ITS NOT A BIG DEAL I JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE WE DONT MAKE FOOLS OF OURSLEVES PLANING THIS DUMB DANCE!”

“Okay okay. I just didn’t think you cared.”

“I can not care and still want to do it right. Remember if we do a shit job Aizawa’s gonna fail us or something.”

I forgot about that part.

“Okay well which of them do you like best?” You asked. Bakugou opened up the second catalog and turned a few pages. He pointed to a theme.

“This ones okay...I guess,” he whispered. You peered over at the theme, a smile creeping onto your face.

“I like that one too,” you said. Bakugou looked at you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and its within our budget, so I think it’s a good choice.”

Bakugou cleared his throat.

“Cool um, I’ll grab a laptop so we can place the order.” Bakugou got up abruptly and walked upstairs.

Is he always in a hurry?

As you waited for Bakugou to get back, you began compiling a list of the work you would need to do. You decided to take more of the creative lead and began putting together a design for the tickets. You wanted it to match the theme that you and Bakugou had chosen.

“You can draw?” said Bakugou, peaking over your shoulder. You jumped.

“Jesus shithead you can’t just scare me like that,” you said, hitting his arm. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“I thought you were only good at one thing,” he muttered. You turned to look at him.

“And what might that one thing be?”

“Combat.”

“So you admit I’m a good fighter.” Bakugou got flustered.

“NO I'M JUST SAYING YOU DON'T TOTALLY SUCK ASS,” he replied, “I’m still better though.”

“Well I hate to break it to you Bakugou but I’m a girl of many talents. So yes I can draw. Can’t you cook or something?”

Bakugou’s eyes widened.

“How’d you know that?”

“I remember from the training camp. You helped cook almost every meal,” you explained.

“Can we not talk about the camp,” he whispered. Your chest got heavy.

“Shit um I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine just drop it,” he said firmly. You nodded.

“Um, did you place the order?” You asked quietly.

“What does it look like I’m doing,” huffed Bakugou.

“Yeah sorry.”

“Why do you apologize so damn much?”

“I-I uh, sorry, wait no-” you stuttered out. Bakugou continued typing.

“You should save sorry’s for when they actually matter,” he muttered. You tilted your head.

“So they don’t always matter?”

“Well if you say the word so damn much it just becomes another useless word. Then when you actually mean it, it’s pointless,” he explained. You never really thought about it like that.

“I guess you’re right. Then I’m totally not sorry,” you joked. Bakugou let out a small chuckle.

“Okay nerd, keep drawing your stupid ticket.”

“ITS NOT STUPID!”

You and Bakugou worked in silence for the rest of the time you spent in the basement. You checked the time.

“We’ve been down here for like 2 hours. I feel like that’s enough for today,” you said. Bakugou looked up from his laptop.

“Uh yeah. Just let me place this last order,” he said. You nodded and began to pack up your stuff.

“Do you have the keys?” You asked. Bakugou nodded and fished the keys out of his pocket. Bakugou grabbed his things.

“Let’s go dumbass,” he said. You sighed and trailed behind him as you walked up the stairs.

The two of you went back to the dorms and saw your friends socializing in the common area.

“There you two are! We lost you after class,” said Mina, waving the two of you over.

“Yeah well party planning awaits. It’s a lot of work for just two people,” you explained, taking a seat.

“Damn right it is,” mumbled Bakugou.

“How’s the planning going?” asked Kirishima. You looked at Bakugou and smiled.

“Bakugou is having so much fun planning. He even picked the theme for the dance,” you said.

“SHUT UP-”

“Wait what’s the theme?” asked Mina excitedly.

“It’s a surprise,” you insisted.

“Just to clarify, Y/N is just shit at planning so I’m having to do more work,” chimed in Bakugou.

“I KNOW YOU DIDNT JUST-” You stood up but before you could go over to him, Iida had grabbed your arm, stopping you from going any farther. You huffed.

“Anyway, how’s your side Deku?” You asked. Deku had a bandage around his stomach, most likely from your doing earlier during training.

“Oh I’m all good! Recovery Girl definitely knows what she’s doing,” he smiled nervously.

“Yeah well I’m sor-, I mean uh, I hope you feel better anyway,” you replied, “you got me pretty good too Deku, so I guess we’re even,” you joked. You lifted up part of your shirt to show the bruise that Izuku had given you from his punch from earlier.

“OH MY GOSH Y/N I‘M SO SORRY!” panicked Izuku. You laughed.

“Don’t worry about it. Makes me look like a total badass,” you smiled.

“Sure it does,” mumbled Bakugou. You gave him the side eye.

“What the hell is your problem today?” You asked, crossing your arms. Bakugou stayed silent.

“God you are such a piece of shit,” you huffed. Bakugou stood up and walked over to you. He gripped the collar of your shirt, pulling you towards him.

“SHUT UP YOU IDIOT!”

Your blood began to boil. You kicked Bakugou in the stomach to get him to let go but his grip was so tight on you that he ripped the collar of your shirt, causing the two of you to fall to the ground. You pinned his hands down.

“TELL ME TO SHUT UP ONE MORE DAMN TIME KATSUKI! I FUCKING DARE YOU!”

“Stop this at once!” ordered Iida but neither of you listened. Bakugou flipped you onto your back, almost knocking the wind out of you. He then pinned you down as well. Bakugou leaned in to look you dead in the eyes.

“Shut. Up.”

That was it. That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. You were pissed. Words couldn’t describe your hatred for Katsuki Bakugou.

“THAT'S IT!” Before you even realized it, you were already generating a small bond to hit Bakugou with.

“Y/N NO!” yelled Deku. Just as you were about to throw it at him, Kirishima had grabbed Bakugou off of you and Deku had pulled you towards him.

“BOTH OF YOU! THIS HAS TO STOP!” Shouted Iida. Your breath was heavy as you looked at Bakugou. Kirishima had let go of him but Deku still had his grip on you.

“LET ME AT HIM! I AM SO SICK OF YOU KATSUKI!” You yelled, beginning to struggle from Deku’s arms.

“Fuck off princess. I’m going to bed,” said Bakugou, turning around and leaving.

“YOU OWE ME A NEW DAMN SHIRT!” You shouted at him but he didn’t turn to look at you.

“And here I thought the two of you were finally getting along…” mumbled Iida.

I thought so too.

•

[taglist OPEN: @vangoghpoets @vangoghmusings @bokutory @complimentaryhugsgirl @cloudswritings @kriswu46 @neodnyl @evivn1 @jazzylove @mileven-reddie @whalerus @misssugarless @random-fandom-girl-24 @fanfiction-and-stress @ushiwakatrash @minhoswife @addictofsupernatural @the-shota-king-masayuki ]

#willow.🌸#my hero academia #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugō #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #hot heads.🌸

169 notes · View notes

suituuup · 4 years

Text

pieces - chapter fourteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn't expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

“A bit higher.”

Beca pushed the small mountain-shaped shelf an inch higher, looking over her shoulder as she held it. “Like that?”

Chloe nodded, smiling. “Perfect.” She walked over and handed Beca the drill, watching as she skillfully made a hole into the wall and inserted a dowel. “I didn’t know you were handy with tools.”

Beca snickered. “Basic things only.” She twisted the screw in and hung the shelf, taking a few steps back to observe her work. “That looks cute.”

Chloe glanced around the room, nodding as she absent-mindedly rubbed her belly. She had just reached thirty weeks, and Bean’s arrival was scarily close. The nursery was coming along nicely, the crib having just been delivered today, while the rest was pretty much done.

The closet was full of onesies, tops, pants and a few dresses, swaddles, blankets, and loveys, and the dark oak changing table (matching the yet to be assembled crib) was stocked up with diapers, wipes, bodysuits, and a variety of creams and oils.

Chloe had channeled her stress into reading as much as she could about newborns, what to do and not do, and while she had experience with babies from back when she was a teenager, she was relieved not to be doing this on her own.

“It does,” Chloe agreed, loving the subtle woodland theme she went for and all the love they poured into making this safe place for Bean. “It’s really cozy.”

“Alright, now onto the big project,” Beca said, nodding towards the large package laying on the floor. “You’ll get to see how limited my knowledge of tools really is.”

Chloe laughed and helped take the different parts of the cribs out of the box, then headed into the kitchen to get them some refreshments.

The last six weeks had been really good. The Bellas welcoming her back with open arms had definitely helped with Chloe’s recovery, and her talk with Beca, that promise that she would wait for her to be ready filled Chloe with a renewed sense of self-worth and made her fall in love with Beca a little bit more.

Chloe was now just over six months sober. The nagging for booze and snow sat somewhere at the back of the brain, and she doubted it would ever go away, but she was getting better at not listening to it.

She stifled a laugh at the sight of Beca looking awfully perplexed by the instructions when she walked back into the room. “You good?”

Beca chuckled. “Yeah. Just trying to make sense of this.” She glanced up to Chloe, accepting the glass of homemade lemonade with a smile and setting it beside her.

“They sent us two baby monitors?” Chloe asked as she sat on the floor, noticing the two exact same boxes. They had ordered a bunch of stuff from the same website, and quite a few boxes had come with the crib while Chloe was at her NA meeting, and Beca had put everything in the nursery. “We only ordered one.”

“No, um, I figured one more would be handy,” Beca said as she picked up one of the crib ends and two of the four legs, along with four bolts. “So I hear Bean when she cries at night, too.”

Chloe shook her head. “I can take care of nights. I don’t want your whole sleeping rhythm to be thrown off because of Bean, you’ve got work, too.”

“I know, but I’m concerned the lack of sleep might mess up with your recovery if you handle it on your own. I’ve read some horror stories about some babies waking up every few hours and that for six months.” Her focus shifted from the crib assembling to Chloe. “I meant what I said when I told you you wouldn’t be on your own with this. But I don’t want to overstep either, so I want you to tell me if you need me to back up a little. I promise I won’t be upset.”

Chloe’s heart swelled with more love. She didn’t know why she kept being surprised every time Beca showed her how dedicated to the both of them she was. Still, she felt a little guilty for disrupting Beca’s routine, but she knew Beca was right.

“You’re not overstepping,” Chloe assured her, softly. “And I want you guys to bond, so I think you taking care of her without me might be a great way to do that.”

“Okay,” Beca murmured, smiling as she went back to her task at hand. “The label already knows I’m taking two months off once she’s born, so I’m around to help out. Maybe she’ll sleep through the night by the time I have to head back.”

Chloe chuckled. “We can always dream.” She cleared her throat. “I was also thinking about Bean’s guardians, in case something happens to me, and I’d like for you to be one of them.”

Beca paused mid-screwing in a bolt and met Chloe’s gaze. It was clear she was moved, and it made Chloe smile. “Of course. I’d be honored.”

“Aubrey will be the other guardian, just so you know. So if I die, you’ll be seeing a lot more of her.”

Beca’s nose wrinkled. “Is it too late to backtrack?” She asked with a soft laugh. Chloe knew she was just joking, as she and Aubrey got on really well, now. “I think Aubrey is a great pick. At least I know I won’t have to be the bad cop. But let’s hope she and I never have to be Bean’s guardians. I’m good with just being the cool aunt.”

The crib was easier to put together than they had originally thought. It only took Beca forty-five minutes, and once it was all done, Chloe grabbed the mattress and set it inside.

“It’s just missing one thing,” Beca said, casting Chloe a smile before she left the room, coming back a minute later. “Close your eyes.”

Chloe did so, and it sounded like Beca was fumbling with something by the crib.

“Okay, open them now.”

Chloe let out a soft gasp at the sight of the animal mobile set up above the crib. A fox surrounded by mountains and clouds. “Beca…”

“I wanted to get Bean a gift, and you mentioned an animal mobile, so I had this custom made with a friend of a friend.”

“It’s perfect,” Chloe whispered, blinking back the tears pricking behind her eyes. She was used to crying over the smallest of things by now that she wasn’t embarrassed anymore. Wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist, she leaned her head over her shoulder, basking in the warmth and peace being in close proximity with Beca brought her.

“I think so, too,” Beca murmured, her own arm coming up to wrap around Chloe’s back as she brushed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Summer chilled to fall over the following week. Chloe was thankful for the cooler temperatures, as her body felt like a furnace on its own, she didn’t need any additional heat. Now thirty-one weeks, she had started to waddle, much to Beca’s amusement, it seemed, even if she only claimed to find it adorable. She also got winded after walking up a single flight of stairs and was insanely grateful for the elevator in Beca’s building.

Hanging a left when it reached the right floor, Chloe headed down the hallway, pulling her keys out of her jacket pocket and sliding them into the lock.

“SURPRISE!”

Chloe jolted slightly, her hand shooting up to her chest in shock. Most of the Bellas stood in Beca’s decorated living-room, beaming at her. Above them hung a cute oh baby banner and a table was laid out with various snacks and a cake.

“Oh my gosh, you guys!” She exclaimed as soon as she regained her composure, stepping further inside to hug each one of her friends tightly. “Did you do all this?” She asked when she got to Beca, awe leaking in her tone.

“Aubrey helped,” Beca said, nodding towards the blonde standing to her right.

“Thank you,” Chloe murmured as she pulled away, embracing Aubrey next. It had taken some time for them to find their way back to how they used to be after so many years apart, and Chloe was so grateful Aubrey gave her a second chance. “Love you, Bree.”

“Love you, too.”

The afternoon was filled with fun activities such as onesie decorating, a Name that Tune game with songs that had the word baby in it, and a cupcake decorating contest. Towards the end of the day, Chloe was coaxed into opening the girls’ present, starting with the one Jessica set in her lap.

“This is from all of us,” she said, smiling as Chloe peered into the bag.

She fished the item out, her heart bursting in her chest as she unfolded the blue and gold onesie which bore the Barden Bella B. “Oh… I love it. Thank you.”

The girls definitely spoiled Bean, gifting Chloe with a bunch of adorable onesies, animal stuffies, mittens, swaddles, a bear winter jumpsuit for those freezing days ahead of them, and an expensive-looking electric swing.

“This is too much,” she croaked out once she had unwrapped the large box, shaking her head in disbelief as the girls simply waved her concern off.

“Oh, that’s from your parents,” Beca chimed in as Chloe reached for the second-to-last present.

Tears pooled in her eyes (she had honestly lost track of how many times she’d cried in the last couple of hours) as she took the familiar item out of the bag. “It’s my baby blanket,” she told the girls as she unfolded the mustard blanket her mom had knitted while she was pregnant with her. She traced the name she had picked for her baby girl, which her mom had added in white lettering in a corner. Chloe smiled as she brought it to her nose; it smelled like home.

The last gift was a pampering kit for Chloe, as well as a few items she would need for after labor.

“I learned some stuff about childbirth that I wish I’d never known while looking for items to add to this,” Amy said with a grimace, drawing a giggle from Chloe. “I didn’t know things could tear like that down below.”

Chloe winced along with the rest of the Bellas, her chuckle coming out strained. “Thanks, Amy.”

Beca ordered pizzas for everyone, and the girls stuck around until nine pm, helping to clean up the living-room before they left. Chloe changed into her pajamas and made herself some herbal tea for her and Beca, joining her on the couch.

“You okay?” Beca asked as she took one of the mugs from Chloe.

“Yeah,” Chloe breathed out, curling up on the opposite end of the couch. “Thank you for today. It was so nice to see the girls again. I’m really lucky.”

“You’re welcome, Chlo.” She motioned towards her lap. “C’mon, hand me those feet.”

Chloe giggled, setting her feet on Beca’s thighs and biting back a moan as she started kneading the sole of her right foot. It had become a sort of a ritual these past few weeks, for Beca to give Chloe a foot rub while they chilled on the couch after dinner. “Am I going to lose those privileges once I’m no longer pregnant?” She teased.

Beca smirked. “We’ll see.”

“I heard back from my old vet school, this morning,” Chloe said, following a few minutes of comfortable silence. She had been communicating back and forth with the advisor over there, who finally heard back from the head of the department. “Since I did two years of vet school already, I’d only have to do one more year to become a vet tech. They offered for me to jump into the school year in January, but that feels a little too soon after Bean gets here, so I think I’ll wait until September next year,” she explained as she rubbed her bump. “But I definitely plan on getting a part-time job waitressing or something by next spring, as soon as Bean is old enough go to daycare.”

Finding a good daycare with availability had been a headache, but Chloe had luckily found a spot at the one she had set her eyes on in the neighborhood.

“That’s great news,” Beca mused aloud, smiling. “I’m proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t be where I am without you, Bec,” Chloe murmured, returning her smile. A groan flitted past her lips a second later. “Ugh, I need to pee again.”

Beca chuckled as Chloe heaved herself to her feet and waddled to the bathroom. She had just shut the door behind her when a sharp pain in her lower belly made her double over, her hand shooting out to grip the counter while the other one cradled her bump.

Panic gripped her insides as she slowly straightened when her head stopped spinning, letting go of her stomach to dip her hand past the waistband of her sweatpants. Her fingers met something warm and sticky, and Chloe’s heart lurched to her throat when she pulled them out, eyes zeroing on the blood.

“No, no, no,” she muttered to herself, forcing down the lump forming in her throat with a hard swallow. She called Beca’s name, her voice wavering as tears rose to her eyes.

“What’s wrong??” Beca rushed out as she rounded the corner, the sight before her answering her own question. Her eyes widened, and she paled, freezing for a couple of seconds before setting into motion. “I’m taking you to the ER. I’ll grab your shoes and coat.”

Chloe gave a faint nod even though she wasn’t sure she registered Beca’s words. Her feet seemed rooted to the floor while Beca’s hurried steps faded. She couldn’t move. She kept staring at her bloodied hand as the most dreaded, terrible, gut-wrenching feeling seized her entire being.

“I can’t--” she found herself saying when Beca appeared in her line of vision. The air got stuck in her throat before it could reach her lungs, just as her words died before it reached her tongue. She couldn’t lose her baby. “Bec.”

“I know,” Beca murmured as she helped Chloe slip her jacket on. Her own hands were shaking. She bent down to guide Chloe’s feet into her sneakers, one by one, then grabbed a towel from the cupboard under the sink.

Another cramp made Chloe cry out, and she felt more blood seeping out of her, in a greater amount this time around. She felt it dripping down her legs and choked on a sob, clutching at her stomach.

The elevator ride and walk to the car was a blur, and Chloe found herself blankly staring out the window as Beca rushed to the hospital, hoping with all her might that her baby would be okay.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #beca mitchell #chloe beale #period piece

70 notes · View notes

thespiantherepist · 4 years

Text

Devoted Devotee Yandere Bakugou x Superfan reader!

{Warnings: Blood, obsession, creepy vibes. Yanderes, jealosy. Be careful here if youre not one for uncomfy themes. 18+ minors DNI. Enjoy the story! ~Nugget!} Ever since his debut you were obsessed. You had never heard of him until he lit up the city streets with light reminiscent of a newly born sun god. You were mesmerized. You watched him catapult through the air. His face and teeth shown with a sense of danger. He looked ready to kill if nessasary. It drove you wild. SURE for a while your friends made fun of your newfound obsession. That was until... you didnt have friends anymore. You were a nice enough person! Sure, that wasnt the problem. They just got tired of not hearing about YOU. They always heard yap of the hero. “GROUND ZERO.” This, and, “GOD EXPLOSION MURDER!” That. It was time for you to take a rehab... but you were’nt aware. You were part of his cult. The highest follower. Papparazi. Spicy fan theories. FAN FICS. Oh how many nights you drooled over the scandelous drawings you blew much of your crypto currency on just to perfect. Your mind was in a haze and your heart was set on him. You went to almost every live viewing. And you were perfectly happy, and healthy... until you were’nt. You started becoming sick more often. A sense of dread filling you if you were’nt able to snuggle up to your pillow with Ground Zero’s voice. Straight. In your ear. Insomnia would creep in. But you still woke as enthusiastic as ever, because you needed money for these meets... and money, comes from work. Your co-workers, were not as polite as your friends. While you rarely spoke to them, and mostly just to the clients they could always hear it. Same as your friends. You would go to work and then be sent back home for being too sick sometimes. On one occasion your boss sent you some food, just so you’d eat. She used child tactics on you. “Ground Zero would like it if you ate your food dear.” She’d say, her soothing voice in front of you as you looked up. She’d give you a big smile. And you would eat. These. Were the only times you wouldnt talk of him. The womans heart broke everytime you talked of him. She would run her dark hands across your cheeck and softly tell you that he wasnt worth your love. She was never in the position to produce children. And she never wanted a husband. Nor did she want a wife. You were the closest to a grandchild the old woman had. So. To show your graditude you stopped. You chatted with her for hours. About you. Only you... and yourself. And that made her happy. You never thought you would get the chance to actually meet him. FOR REAL. Your eyes buldged out of their sockets. You pulled your phone out, snapping pictures of him gliding through the air. HE WAS SO GRACEFUL! He looked like an angel and you thought of crying. He roared so loud you thought he’d damage his beautiful vocal cords. He finally after a greuling battle was able to take down the stupid villain. You swooned. Eyes filling with hearts as you leaned back wistfully. If only you could touch him. Then your life would be conten- “DUMBASS LEAVE ALREADY!” You felt a harsh prod at your forehead. Blinking you righted yourself. Awestruck at the sight before you. In fornt of your own two eyes. Touching you. Was Ground Zero. You fell to your knees. Hugging his boots. “OMGOMGOMG!!!!! YOURE GROUND ZERO, I AM LITERALLY YOUR BIGGEST FAN. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IVE WANTED TO MEET YOU!” Behind his eyes there was a look of pure malace as he stared at his feet which were covered by your body. He was tempted to blast you to peices before realising. You were just a civilian. Just a weak, little, pathetic- You looked straight up at him. Eyes of admiration glistening back up at him. A hole night sky encapsulated in the precious lenses that were your eyes. He was taken aback. Suddenly noticing the adorable smiling face that peered up at him. He was almost confused. ‘When will they stop looking at me like that?’ He thought. But the longer he stared at them... the more enrapturing they got. He shook himself form the thought and pryed you away from him. “Fuckin what?” He said almost winded. Watching as you spryly lifted to your feet. Barreling back towards him before skipping in one spot. “YEAH YEAH YEAH! OOH OOH.” You plucked a pen and notebook from your bag and shoved it towards him. He looked at it in discust. But at you? He just couldnt look away. “PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PPLLLLLLEEEEASE SIGN THIS! YOURE MY FAVOURITE AND I ADORE YOU!” The amount of praise you put out almost nullified any sense of discust now. Witht the crowd gone and the sky darkening he sighed. But just before he could grab the objects. ‘Ill sign it! Mr. Fun Zero here wont take a chill pill for one second!” A flirtatious and somewhat goofy voice chimed in from behind him. A flash of yellow,and black passed the two of em. Chargebolt quickly wrote his alias... and his number. Followed by a black and yellow heart. Pikachu ears poking out at the top. He winked at you and handed the book back. “Youre a cutie, ya know?” He asked you retorically as you stared at the signature in confusion. “Haha! What am I asking of course you know.” He said in a friendly way. Ground Zeros fists clenched. Noticable sparks flaking out. He wanted you to whine. And to complain. To bawl and cry about how that dumb pikachu stole HIS spot. Bit you just awkardly and kindly nodded. The vibe kind of ruined now. “I uhhh... I’ll get going.” You said jabbing a finger at the opposite road. Before you could even turn around Ground Zero snatched your book and held it over his head. You almost pouted. But he motioned for the pen. You squealed in joyous glee, as you handed it to him. He turned his head around. Sticking his tounge out angrily at Denki. He wrote three things. His real name. His number. And a note... “Ill always watch over you.~Ground Zero.” You watched in absolute astonishment at the scene. He gave the book back to you. Leaning in to close a distance, ‘Why the fuck are you doing this?’ He asked himself. Furious. ‘It feels right.’ He rebuttled. As he handed the book back to you he made sure to graze your fingertips. Keeping his serious, and stern look on. “You better be going back home soon Teddy Bear. Dont want you getting hurt.” He turned you around for good measure. Making sure to lightly tap right above your ass to make you flustered. Which you were. Immensely. Your face heated up like the surface of a blue star. Blood pouring from your nose to your cheeks. You whipped around and bowed several times. Getting a bit of blood on the ground. “THANK YOU SO MUCH. Uhh I UUHH. BYE BYE!” And with that you zipped off. Zooming straight back to your apartment and falling asleep straight as you locked the door and collapsed on the couch. Bakugou stayed behind. An inner quarrel raging in his mind. ‘TEDDY BEAR WHAT THE FUCK? “WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT! ‘You tapped their ass what the fuck you perv? ‘They liked Denkis more than yours. ‘I wanna see them writhing beneath me. He tried to shake them. Flustered horribly by these thougts. HE HAD ONLY JUST MET THEM! He needed to calm down. Then a voice breached all his other thoughts. “Their blood looks tasty.” Denki was taken aback. And now was moonwalking all the way back to his other patrol area. Bakuhou didnt care, and insteasd just knealt down. Swiped a bit of the blood off the pavement and licked his finger. He could physically feel his pupils expand. Wider than they ever had before. He smirked. A tastse of something sweeter than kicking a villans ass, or dragging Deku through the mud. Now he had a target... and they werent getting away. Why would they want to anyway? “

#yandere bakugou #oblivious and obsessive reader #aged up #pro hero #admiration #blood #Chapter 1 #Civilian reader #superfan reader #scary bakugou #denki #1

56 notes · View notes

paralume-game · 4 years

Note

Can you give a brief description of each of the ROs? I know their names and what they look like, but who are they as people?

Hello. I sneaked past the gates of Hell (School) for a minute to hand out some more vague character descriptions, to keep you yearning. :)

Azalea

She's harsh and eloquent. Brisk in getting hold of a conversation, and turning it upside down at her desire.

You can see sheer knowledge swimming behind those inky dilated pupils, covering up her charming brown eyes, flecked with spots of gold.

Her long nails brush through her hair.

Slow and seductive.

Voluminous maroon locks bounce from the touch of her sharp black nails.

She flicks you a sultry smile, speaking in a suggestive tone,

"I'm a hunter, birdie."

She grabs a fistful of your attire, pulling you closer.

"Strong," she whispers.

Her red lips close in on yours, hot breath awakening dormant goosebumps all over your body. In this close proximity, you can watch her long lashes flutter against her dark bronze skin.

"Cunning," she continues.

She takes her time to regard all the details of your face, eyes flitting over every part, finally ending up on your lips.

She pulls back then, pushing you away harshly, so that you lose your balance. She's tittering.

Not attempting in the slightest to prevent your fall. Merely watching you descend, hitting the ground uncomfortably.

You stare up at her towering form, hovering above you, a feral smile adorning her full lips.

She makes you feel powerless.

Just by watching. By smiling. By touching.

She shakes her mane like a lion, satisfied with the hunt. Proud of the kill.

She doesn't have to plunge her nails into your skin to assert her reign.

"And dangerously alluring," she finishes, leaving you behind in the dirt.

You only hear the sound of her ruby red dress, fluttering in the breeze, before her shadow disappears entirely.

Azazel

His big hands stroke softly over fabric.

He wields the scissors in them with scrupulous skill.

His gaze is concentrated, but there's a mild hint of wonder swirling in his beautiful eyes.

The left one a mossy green, like the untamed ivy crawling up the walls of his home. Whereas a stripe of blue cuts through the right one, like a cool stream of water in a lush forest.

Excitement crawls between his ebony digits, daringly offering him to try something new, something outrageous.

Something that he will never show the world, but store deep in his own closet, concealed underneath a pile of earthy coloured garments.

Too striking for him to wear, too attention seeking.

He can't draw eyes toward him, there's nothing special to be seen there.

It would only be a mismatch of colours on him, just like his irises.

Fear shackles his hands with a tight grip, making him drop the scissors.

Doubt claws at his mind.

Why does he bother if the things he creates won't be appreciated? What does the process mean, if it's stagnant and dreary?

He picks the shears up once more, accidentally cutting his finger on the sharp metal blades.

A blotch of red glares up from the unfinished garb. Prominent. Striking.

He sets to finish the task. For his own sake only.

Nathan/Hanna

Sweet charity carries their voice, soft intimacy lies in their touch, and safety can be found in their embrace.

So soothing, that they could strangle you in their arms, without any alarming struggle or complain from you.

You'd simply melt further into their warmth.

Dark chocolate eyes will search for yours, tearing up with affection when they find you gazing back at them.

Brunette hair tickles your shoulders, as they lay their cheek upon it.

They're free of greed, always there to lend a hand, an ear, a word.

Never expecting anything in return.

A person so extremely caring, that they'd rather watch out for someone else, instead of taking care of their own soul.

It's quite difficult to not want to give anything back to them.

But your happiness is more than enough, they tell you. Your steadily beating heart is a song that soothes their own.

There lies grief deep within those words, plucking at your heartstrings.

They lie a hand on top of it, feeling its rhythm. Nursing its heat.

"I'm glad you're here with me," they whisper, with a smile dripping off their lips.

Brighter than day.

Though darker than usual.

The rest of the sentence remains as a barely audible movement of lips, quieter than a pin drop:

"Even though I don't deserve you."

Blaire

Nonchalant and uncaring, it seems.

Though there lies passion, as well as untold stories within their songs, and the images etched underneath their skin.

A garden of Milkweed and birds of paradise wind up their arms. Quotes, lettering, critters, and silly doodles peek through their leaves.

Swallows fly a detour over their neck, wings outstretched.

Their creativity shapes whole cities, entire worlds, even.

Radiant places, filled with vivid buildings, reaching for the skies. And bustling streets, each blot of colour in them representing a person. Souls containing tall tales.

They shake their damp black hair out of their eyes, grazing the canvas with the tip of their brush in the process.

A sigh chimes.

Out of annoyance from observing the invading orange line on the side of a skyscraper, now a glowing pile of rubble, extending toward the heavens.

It strikes an idea in them, their strokes picking up speed.

Do those wrecks reach for the stars?

Scrape at them, to get a taste of space dust? The Flavour of impossibility melting on their tongues.

They take a step back from the canvas, taking in a drawing, which depicts... hope, mostly. If they had to pick a word.

A reoccurring theme to be found in their creations.

And yet, whenever their dark eyes, black like ink, fall on their pieces of work after the finishing touch, there's but a pinch of yearning to be found in them.

Yearning for the world outside this town they're in, desire to lose these invisible shackles around their feet, binding them to this forsaken place.

Their hands grab the sides of the easel, throwing it to the side.

Wet paint clings to wooden flooring, as the image and restless footsteps hit the ground.

Acrylic dries on overpriced vintage clothes.

Ash hits a tray. Nicotine fills lungs.

And eyelids close reluctantly.

Willow

They look cold and brittle. Thin and tired. The bags underneath their eyes grow evermore, every day.

Development that is caused by the indifference toward concealing them.

"What for?" They'd reply, if you would ask, voice light.

Then they'd try to brush stark white hair out of their icy eyes.

Suddenly revealing their blue brilliance, surrounded by signs of fatigue, as they pluck the strands behind their pointy ears.

Knowing them, you're sure it's their way of telling you that it's alright to be tired.

It's okay to be exhausted.

They are too, after all.

They'd flick you a smile, if you'd mull over the answer. Sharp canines, usually hidden behind light pink lips, peeping through.

They're always trying to keep up a distant exterior, mysterious as the forest encircling the both of you.

Though you know well that they are as caring as can be.

Worrying deep into the night about the wellbeing of people that they love.

You can observe their deep-rooted care and patience especially well in how they tend to their father's garden.

Always patiently searching for and plucking away weeds, or assiduously watering the earth with a perfectly estimated amount of water.

With a white cloak sporting dark brown stains. Certainly one of the few times on which it isn't in an impeccable shape.

They're concerned about each being trying to prosper in such an unforgiving world. They also hold a special concern for your steady level of idiocy. Although they have learnt to become fond of it, flat out cherish it. In secret, of course.

Even so, they can not will themself to reach the same level of foolishness- dare they say 'careless freedom', as you.

For underneath the wise, hardworking, pale façade lies the mere face of a scared child.

#bro I should study for my economy exam #but no this is more important #I'll add Sugar later dw :)#Azalea #Azazel #Blaire #Willow #Nathan #Hanna #ask #ideasatemynights

27 notes · View notes

mynameisfrankie · 4 years

Text

Invincible - Prologue

Summary: Hi, this is going to be my first multi chapter story with an original character. It follows the the story of a girl going through the trial and tribulations of life while trying to understand not only herself and her Inhuman powers but others around her. The story will also follow the story line of Bucky Barnes and his time as the Winter Soldier. This story will have the theme of soulmates but it does not dominate the storyline. I really hope all that read enjoy it. I will also be listing the songs I used to write each chapter. Frankie. xoxo

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Tags: Original Character x Bucky Barnes/ Winter Soldier

My mother was a beautiful woman, her face was soft and youthful, her eyes were a warm, swirling hazel. She had a smile that would cause her eyes to crinkle ever so slightly. Her full laugh would always bring joy to my ears as she spun me in the air, her head always thrown back to let her body bask in the sun. My small squeal of a laugh following hers as my feet brushed the long grass. She was the best person I had ever met.

There was nothing she wouldn't do to help others, and there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect the ones she loved.

***********

She was an intelligent woman moving fast through the educational system, people who knew her in her former life would refer to her as gifted, a gifted young woman with lots of potential to go far. She had started to work for NASA as a mathematical and theoretical biologist specialising in the anatomy and physiology of Inhumans at the age of 23. NASA had become interested in the mythology surrounding a planet light-years away from earth called Maveth. Rumors were that an ancient inhuman called Hive had been exiled there by his people and had all but wiped out the advanced civilization that occupied the planet.

A private, well funded organisation wanted to send some people to Maveth on a top secret, completely need to know only mission through what they believed was the 'portal'. NASA seemed like the most logical place to search for youngish individuals who potentially had a small deathwish. Whilst having a head full of useful knowledge about other planets and the organisms that potentially lived on them. My mother seemed to be the perfect candidate.

So in February of 1994, they sent a team of fourteen or so people including people from NASA, the U.S. military, and a few other organizations that were deemed useful. I remember her telling me about a friend she had made on the trip, Jimmy I think his name was. He would talk about feeling like a pirate because of old maritime law and the international waters' technicality.

My mother never told me about Maveth, only that she had met my father there. She told me he was an Inhuman like me and because of that, I was special and sometimes bad people would want to take advantage of that. I had inherited my father's Kree induced genetic mutation enabling me to have different abilities to normal humans. The thing that both confused and intrigued my mother was that I hadn't gone through terrigenesis which was supposedly the only process of genetic ability awakening for Inhumans, I was born with my abilities making me both a medical mystery and an anomaly.

She would always have a sad glint in her eye whenever she spoke about him. She explained to me once that she and he were soulmates, making them a very rare and desired pairing. Due to consecutive wars, the need for manpower had caused the concept of soulmates to all but die out. Having soulmate parents was one of the only ways in which your child could carry the soulmate gene and have a soulmate. For this reason, people married for companionship and had children who no longer carried the soulmate gene.

***********

My mother and I lived a simple life in solitude on the borders of a small African country called Wakanda. Their technology was far ahead of every other civilisation and due to their technological advances, they could deal with a slightly volatile inhuman child. They offered us security and protection when no one else would. There was always hope of a new day when we were in Wakanda.

One particular night, I awoke crying. The pain of growing gripping my small frame. I remember her soft voice filling my compact bedroom as she entered through the doorway, her arm moving the boldly patterned cloth that covered the opening. Her panic-stricken eyes met mine before they softened with the realisation of what was happening. A perfect caring smile appeared at her mouth, that alone was enough for me to calm slightly knowing my mother was there to protect me.

She moved to my small bed where I lay tangled and sweaty in the thin light blue sheet. “Mama.” My small voice breaking as I called desperately for her as her hand brushed the messy damp tendril of hair from my warm forehead as she kneeled by my bed.

“I'm here my love, what’s wrong Rosie girl?” The cooing of her voice just above a whisper using my nickname to comfort me, her eyes scanned my face, brows slightly raised as she waited for an answer.

“My legs hurt.” A weak sound left my mouth. At my admission of what was wrong, my mother got on the edge of my bed and shuffled us both over. Her back was leaned against the headboard as she pulled me into her side, letting my head lean against her chest where her heartbeat was strong, the steady sound lulling me into a calm state. Her smooth hand began to slowly run up and down my small legs, the warmth from the movement easing the pain slightly. I began to close my eyes at the small amount of relief when I heard humming from my mother, the soft vibrations filling her chest.

Voice just above a whisper she began to sing the soft melodic tune, the words filling my ears. “You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much.” She paused looking down at my face where her eyes met mine. Smiling she leaned her head down to me, her soft full lips pressed to my temple as he continued to mumble into my hair.

“At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive, you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. Pardon the way that I stare, there's nothin' else to compare, the sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak.” Her free hand came to cup the side of my face drawing me even closer to her warm body as she continued to sing.

“But if you feel like I feel, Please let me know that it's real. You're just too good to be true, Can't take my eyes off of you.” There was a pause in the room as she took a deep breath, the sound of calm wind brushing against the wind chimes that hung on the outside of the small house became noticeable in the peaceful moment.

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say.” I closed my eyes slowly as they began to feel heavy, I started to sing along with the words she sang slowly.

“Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray, oh, pretty baby.” Her calming voice met my slurred one as sleep blanketed me.

“Now that I've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby.” She paused to hear my even breathing as my singing stopped, a sigh leaving her body as she began to relax too.

“Let me love you.” The strained whisper left her mouth as she ended with a kiss to my hairline. Sleep overtook us both as we lay on my small cramped bed, basking in the heat of a peaceful Wakandan night.

#bucky fanfic #oc character #original story #marvel #Winter Soldier #winter soldier x oc #inhumans #enhanced oc #inhuman oc #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barns x reader

14 notes · View notes

be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Text

In Sorrow and In Joy- Part 7: Human

Luke learns the hard way what it means to be a dad and how to keep his family safe and together. Dad!Luke with a South Asian Reader. This is a collaborative experience with A Family of Five.

CW: Over the course of this series, themes of racism and prejudice on the basis of religion are present. Please read or skip as necessary.

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

Support me on kofi

No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well.

_____________________

Zeek and Noor are adamant about a bike ride. Zahra prefers to get her nails done. Luke had hoped to send more time together as a family on his day off. But unfortunately there’s not enough hours in the day to do both together. You agree to take Zahra to a nail salon close to the hotel. Luke grabs some bikes with the twins and they agree on a path around time. Hopefully by the time you two are done, they’ll be at the frozen yogurt place everyone agreed to meet at. Helmets acquired, Luke wrangles the kids, kissing you on the cheek.

“Have fun. Be safe,” you chime, watching them shuffle out the hotel door.

Noor walks directly beside Luke, smiling as they walk down the hallways of the hotel. “How’s the comic coming along?” Luke asks Zeek, nodding for him to catch up.

Zeek sighs a little. “Alright, I guess.” It’s not going anywhere really. He’s stuck. It’s mainly inspiration. He doesn’t feel inspired enough to take his character. He goes to so many places, but honestly none of those intrigued him. He could make his character the typical superhero who saves everyone but not himself. But that feels tired and making the hero the villain in the end seems obvious too. Not as obvious as the first option, however, it feels unoriginal to Zeek. But he can’t seem to find the thing that makes his character accessible.

“Just alright?” Luke asks. “What’s going on?”

“I just think I need to clear my head for a little bit, you know?”

Luke nods, looking down at his son. Placing his hand on Zeek’s back, Luke prays that the bike ride will help. Noor takes his other hand as they descend down the elevator. The sudden dropping sensation still catches her off guard. He gives her small hand a squeeze, smiling down at her furrowed brow. The second they step out of the hotel, Luke can hear the click of cameras. He tucks both kids into his side. They know this drill unfortunately. Both keep their faces buried in the cloth of his t-shirt.

With a stern glance to the papz, Luke manages to keep them far enough at bay. It’s moments like this that Luke wished he wasn’t famous. Not even for his sake, but for the sake of his family. Every little thing they do automatically becomes a news headline. They breathe the wrong way and it’s blasted across tabloids and blogs. He wishes for his kids to have normalcy, a childhood they don’t have to recover from. Though he might have fucked that up just a little with Zahra. But he’s trying. At the end of the day, no matter what mistakes Luke makes, he tries his damnedest to give them a normal life. If only the fucking paps would politely be on the same page as him.

Far from the paps, and flashes, Luke let’s them pick out whatever bike they want from the rental shop. “Daddy, can we ride that one together?” Noor asks, pointing up high to a baby blue tandem bike.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Luke has the worker pull that one down and then tries to find Zeek. It shouldn’t be that hard to do since the shop is practically empty besides them. But it still takes a moment to find the red flames on Zeek’s helmet.

Luke walks over, Noor in toe. “So let me guess,” he starts, looking at the two bikes in front of him. Luke rubs a hand over the beard. “You’re gonna go with the black one. Because the red doesn’t quite match the red in your helmet.”

Zeek grins. “Or maybe I could go with the red one just because you said something.”

A chuckle falls from Luke’s lips. “You’re just saying that because I was right. So which one is it? Prove your old man wrong, huh?”

Zeek looks back to the bikes. His dad is right. The red doesn’t quite match the color of his helmet. But does he really want to prove his dad right? Zeek looks between them before spotting something gold. He looks up to see an employee setting out a new bike. He grins, pointing it out. “That one.”

As Luke settles his gaze onto the bike, he grins a little. Of course, Zeek would. “Alright,” he nods, “that one it is then.”

The three of them hop onto their bikes. Luke takes a selfie while Zeek takes a moment to get balanced. “Say cheese,” Luke warns, barely giving the boy enough time to look up.

“Take another one!” Zeek demands horrified at how dumb his face looks.

“I like that one. But I’ll take a spare one,” he angles the phone up again. Noor pokes her head out from behind Luke. Zeek is able to smile this time. Luke sends it to you, even though you may not see it for a while. He knows you’ll still gush over it the second your nails are dry and free to use.

The wind starts to blow over their faces as they gain some speed. Noor pedals as hard as she can to keep up with Luke, but as they travel, she gets distracted by the numerous brightly colored shop displays. Zeek keeps up the pace. He’s less intrigued by the stores and finds himself thinking up scenarios for the people who walk around them. What time did they wake up? What do they eat for breakfast, if they eat at all? He wonders what they’re childhood was like. Did they ever break an arm falling out of a tree?

One woman sits waiting for the bus. Zeek imagines she works in some sort of office building by the gray dress pants. Not the boss, unfortunately, but one day she’ll take over. She works hard. Maybe she’s an architect. Yeah, that fits her. She designs skyscrapers; she’s working on the tallest building ever right now. Her boss will love the design, but try to steal it as his own. So she quits and starts her own company. Soon it becomes the number one architecture business in the world and her old boss comes crawling back in need of any sort of work. She could easily turn him away, or give him a job scrubbing toilets. But she can’t, she’s too nice. She’ll give him an entry level position. She’ll advance him as she sees fit. She will kill him with kindness.

“Dad,” Noor starts, “look.” She points to a candy shop they’re approaching. “Can we stop for candy?”

“Sure thing. Only something small though,” he warns before crossing the street and turning left down the block towards the shop. Right next door is a comic book shop. As they unload off the bikes Zeek hovers outside the door.

“Can I go in Dad?”

“Once Noor picks her candy out, you can head over.” It’s fair, so Zeek lingers behind them.

Noor looks with awe at all the large displays. She points out a giant ring pop, laughing. “It’s small, right?.”

Luke chuckles. “That is most definitely not small at all.”

“You’re no fun,” she teases.

“Daddy is tons of fun!”

Zeek laughs. “Yeah for your age, you’re tons of fun. Just not after 9 pm.”

Luke whips around, mouth agape and the start of a snort catching in his throat. “Oh, someone’s got the sass today.” Zeek laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, I was going to grab you a reese’s but I guess now I’ll put it back,” he jokes with a huff. Luke starts towards the chocolate display, orange wrapper in hand.

“I’ll trade the reese’s for a comic anyway,” Zeek offers.

“Cherry or grape?” Noor asks, looking to her brother. She’s holding up two blowpops.

“Both. One for now. One for later.”

She huffs. “Why do I ever ask you?”

Wrapping her in a hug, Zeek chuckles. “Because you love me.”

She wraps her hands around his forearms, a return gesture to his hug. “Unfortunately.” She eventually settles on the grape, though Luke argues for cherry. The red will still be noticeable on her tongue, but far less than the purple dye. He can’t say no to her pout though. They’ll have to figure out a way out of your rage when that bridge arises. Luke can already hear the lecture you’re going to give him about how they were already getting frozen yogurt before even having dinner. He can already see the huff pushing out from your shoulders.

The door to the comic book store chimes again. Zeek looks up from the copy he’s holding to see Noor and Luke walking in. “Heads up,” Luke calls out, holding up the reese’s. Luke tosses it and Zeek manages to catch it one handed.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome. See anything cool?”

Zeek holds up the comic he’s reading. “Newest edition.”

Luke nods, looking through the comics. The only ones he truly recognizes and can follow along with are things like Captain America, Deadpool, and Batman, the mainstream ones really. But Zeek takes a particular interests in the ones from Dark Horse. So Luke tries to keep up with them, though they do sometimes become lost on him. Luke still listens to Zeek explain all the actions sequences, the plot lines. He watches with a smile as Zeek comes alive, talking, the smile that takes over his boy’s face, the way he talks with his hands. The pure excitement and rush of being listening too.

“Hey, you see that one?” Luke points out with a cover he hasn’t seen in Zeek’s collection. A tribal leader of sorts, the headgear is faded out and made of something Luke can’t quite see from here.

“I’m reading that series with a friend. He’s a couple issues behind and it’s his turn to get the copy,” Zeek answers.

“Let me know if it’s good? It looks interesting.”

With a nod, Zeek watches as his dad looks over more titles. He knows his dad isn’t into this, comics and drawing aren’t what get his dad out of bed in the morning. It’s normally an alarm, or the need to write or play music. And yet in still, he puts in so much effort. Was he afraid that touring somehow made Zeek forget how much love was there? Was his father afraid that Zeek would be angry? What was it? Not that Zeek minded, but he knew something was propelling his father.

As the set back on the bike around the city, after purchasing two new comics, Zeek watches his father. He tries to pull to the surface what the reason for this. The traveling didn’t make Zeek upset. He liked it actually, he liked seeing new places. He liked getting things in the mail from different countries from Luke. He liked seeing his dad happy. He could never be angry about that. Yes it hurt to always feel like his father was so far, but it was days like this when Zeek could join him on the road and steal small moments together that made that distance a little easier to bare.

They return the bike rentals, pulling off helmets. Noor quickly reaches for the bag in Luke’s shoulder to grab the hair brush. One of the few times the girl actually cares about her hair. The walk to the frozen yogurt place is short from here, thankfully.

Zahra flashes her orange nails in line. “Very pretty,” Luke gushes, titling her hand in the light.

“I couldn’t convince Mum out of her color,” Ra laughs with a roll of her eyes.

“There is nothing wrong with the color I choose,” you defend.

“But you always choose it; always the same nude pink with a brown tint.”

Luke pulls you in for a kiss. “It’s a nice color, as always,” he grins, tucking some hair behind your ear. Noor wraps herself around your legs, wanting in on the hug as well. Ra sighs, but smiles. She likes this, her family complete, like it was always meant to be.

Zeek watches on, happy, but still unsure of what his father fears. All gathered onto a bench outside, it doesn’t take long until spoons are scraping the bottom of paper cups. “Should we head back?” you ask.

Luke goes to nod, but Zeek cuts him off. “Can I talk to you, Dad? Go to the park maybe?”

“Of course, bud.” You and the girls head back to the hotel room. Luke remains seated, gazing on at Zeek. “What’s going on?”

Even though the sun is blazing and the beams are blinding him, Zeek stares out in front of him. His face scrunched up and eyes centimeters from closing, he gazes on into the horizon. “I’m stuck with the writing.”

“How can I help?”

“I need to make him more human. And I was just thinking about how you’re so invested in all our hobbies and interests. It’s great, but it made me think, something scares you. Like, more than just the normal parent things. You know? Something happened and it made you really scared.”

Luke hangs his head a little. His boy was always observant, always watching. A small piece of Luke’s hair falls into his face. With a sigh, he lifts his head, Zeek’s gaze zeroed in on him. “I made some mistakes, Zeek. I’m not perfect.”

“No one is.”

With a sad chuckle, Luke nods. “Yeah, that’s true. But I really messed up. I married your Mum twice,” Luke starts. He goes to clarify that the married twice isn’t wholy correct. He married once, divorced and then they got back together. But you weren’t for a second marriage. The legality of it all was pointless to be fair. Besides, Luke knew there was some fear. What if things went to shit a second time? What if there had to be divorce papers again? No one wanted to deal with lawyers, and child support, and dividing assets a second time. So the two of them left it alone the second time.

“What?” the question falls softly from Zeek’s lips, barely enough breathe to get it out. What was his dad talking about? What did he mean married her twice?

“We got married really young and had Zahra. But I wasn’t ready for a kid. I was out drinking, partying. I was never home. Your mother was raising two kids when she should’ve had a husband. We got a divorce. She couldn’t handle it and I wasn’t even mad at her. I went to counseling, still do. It’s not that we stopped loving or having love for each other, but she couldn’t take me back until I got myself together. And I didn’t want to get back together until then. The pictures we have are from the second time. I was ready then.”

Luke looks to Zeek, grabbing his son’s hand. “I make a conscious effort to be so invested because I wasn’t there for nearly a year of Zahra’s as much as I would’ve liked to be. She still remembers what it was like to have me so close, but so far away from her. I have tried to make that up to her. I have tried to fix those scars. Ultimately, there’s not much I can do to reverse what I did. But the future, I can always do better in the future. I can be there for her when she paints her nails and has debates. I can be there for you and your comics. I can be there for Noor when she wants to run lines. I can be right there in the future. I may only be human, but I’m a human with a beautiful wife, three amazing kids, and a big future.”

Zeek slides into Luke, wrapping his arms around his torso. This is what terrifies his father, making the same mistake twice, not learning from his mistakes, from falling back into whatever man he was before. “I love you, Dad.”

Gently rustling the black strands, Luke smiles and kisses the top of Zeek’s hand. “I love you. Dad tries. I’m not perfect, but I try my hardest.”

“I know. I can see it.”

“Still wanna go to the park?”

“No, I got an idea for my comic now.”

Right as Luke calls for dinner, pizza being the order of the day because a debate over food was sure to ensue if the planning kept going on any longer, Zeek rushes out from the bedroom of the suite, tablet in hand. Luke cradles his phone into his ear using his shoulder and takes the drawing tablet. “Okay, thank you,” Luke says concluding the phone call.

Zeek takes the cellphone and ends the call, hovering close by as Luke slides through the panels. It’s a monologue of the character, after coming home from a mission. Most of the panels are black and shadowing, but depicts him removing the superhero costume. “I’m human, not in a physical sense, but in a mental sense. Hearing screams still make my heart jump. I wake up every morning terrified. Terrified of failing, terrified for that one person I can’t save. I am terrified. I am human. I am terrified of becoming human,” reads the last panel.

Luke pauses and look up to his boy, smiling. Tears are still to collect on his lower lashline. “Keep going, Dad.”

A hard sniffle echoes throughout the room and Luke swipes to the left. ‘For Dad--it’s okay to be human.”

Luke slides the tablet to the cushion next to him, before dropping to his knees. Zeek doesn’t resist the hug his father pulls him in for; instead, he wraps his arms tightly around. “Thank you, Zeek,” Luke whispers, rocking the boy’s frame side to side.

___ The radio blasts inside the car. Luke’s settled into the driverseat, the majority of his hair pulled into a bun. Some is left out, hanging in front of his face. You reach out and twirl the loose strands. “Need a haircut, babe.”

Luke fakes on offended sound. “Are you saying that you don’t like it long? That’s not what you said last night.”

“Gross!” Ra shouts from the back seat. Zeek snickers, pulling out his phone. Luke’s laughter fills the car. It’s his last day off and a trip downtown was in order before dropping you guys down at the airport, which was your current destination.

As the heat creeps up your cheeks, Luke turns up the volume on the radio. He reaches out for your knee, giving it a squeeze. “C’mon, we’re how old now? You’re still not blushing are you?” he teases.

Zeek records from the back as his dad’s start singing along. Ra huffs from beside him, attempting to get their dad to stop. “This is a car, Dad. Not your concert,” she laughs as he starts doing a poor shoulder shimmy. Zeek turns to the camera to Noor who’s copying the dance way better. She grins at the camera.

Zeek taps for the selfie mode. “This is it. This is what my family is like. Tickets on sale now.”

Another loud laugh from Luke bounces around in the car. “It’s not that bad is it, Zeek?” he asks, glancing into the rearview mirror.

“No,” he smiles. “It’s not. I just like poking fun.”

Pulled in front of the airport gates, Luke helps unload the bags from the trunk. It’s not a lot, only a three day trip for you all. But still he insists of pulling each of the backpacks out of the trunk. He slides Noor’s bag on and kisses the top of her head, the first to fly out of her seat. “Love you, Daddy! I’ll send pictures of me in my costume!”

“I’ll be looking forward to it, pumpkin. Sorry again, I can’t fly in time for your play.”

“It’s okay. We can record, so I’ll send you that.”

He grins. “I’ll be sure someone films my reactions, so it’ll be like I was right there.”

She kisses his cheek, stepping out of the way. Zahra grabs her backpack from Luke’s hand, kissing his cheek. “Love you. Try not to fall on stage again,” she laughs.

“No promises. Love you.”

Zeek motions for you to go next. So Luke hands over your bags, kissing your lips repeatedly, a series of pecks, dramatically adding the ‘mwah’ sound at the end of each one. It earns a fake gag from Ra. Noor just coos. Finally, is it Zeek’s turn. Luke hands over the gray and black backpack. Zeek unzips it pulling out a stack of paper. Luke takes them, noticing it’s the comic. “I want you to have the first copy. I printed it out at the hotel with Mum’s help.”

The grin is watery, Luke knows by how his lip quivers a little and his vision blurs. His chest squeezes. The first copy, Luke looks back down to his hand. The gray, white and black cover art, the shadow of a man, sitting in the middle of a room, a mess scattered about him of clothes and cigarette buds. Zeek’s art skills are impeccable. But Luke knows what’s on that last page. The last page that reminds him of how okay it is to not be okay sometimes. How okay it is not to be perfect. How okay it is to make mistakes. How okay it is to be human.

“I’m proud of you, bud. You know?” Luke whispers, voice thick with the tears that haven’t quite fallen yet down his cheek.

“I know, Dad.”

“Thank you. I’m humbled to have the first copy.” They share a long embrace. Luke watches the four of you travel through the glass sliding doors. He watches until your shadows disappear from sight. Settled back into the car, Luke flips to the last page again. His phone buzzes with a message from Zeek. It’s the video he took on the drive over. Luke smiles, replying with a question.

After the show, Luke scrolls through his phone, clicking out of the Instagram app to twitter. His mentions are a mess as always but the majority are about the sticker, “It’s okay to be human.”. Luke asked Zeek to send him a digital copy of the last page to him. He then found a printing shop nearby that made stickers. He got one made to go on his guitar of the dedication. One user gushes how sweet the gesture is.

Luke writes a reply. I need a reminder sometimes. And I think others do. I’m proud of my bud.

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemming series #dad!luke #dad!luke series #5sos #5 seconds of summer #h writes #luke hemmings x south asian reader #luke hemmings x reader #5sos fanfics #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic

8 notes · View notes

edgeofpages · 4 years

Text

Literary References in ‘When the Weather is Fine’ <날씨가 좋으면 찾아가겠어요> Part I: Poems

날씨가 좋으면 찾아가겠어요 (English: When the Weather is Fine/I’ll Find You on A Beautiful Day/I’ll Go to You When the Weather is Nice) is a 2020 JTBC drama which is adapted from the original novel by Lee Do Woo.

In this part, we are going to have a jolly time reading all the poems featured in the drama.

01. ‘A Drink’ <술 한잔>

In the second episode, Aunt Su-jeong reads Jeong Ho-seung’s poem ’A Drink’ <술 한잔> during the Goodnight Book Club meeting.

인생은 나에게 술 한잔 사주지 않았다 겨울밤 막다른 골목 끝 포장마차에서 빈 호주머니를 털털 털어 나는 몇 번이나 인생에게 술을 사주었으나 인생은 나를 위해 단 한 번도 술 한잔 사주지 않았다 눈이 내리는 날에도 돌연꽃 소리없이 피었다 지는 날에도

Life has never bought me one drink. Many a time I’ve shaken out my empty pockets in a tent-bar at the end of a blind alley to buy life a drink, but life has never once bought me one drink, even on snowy days, even on days when stone lotuses, without a sound, bloomed. and faded.

02. ‘To Daffodil’ <수선화에게>

In the third episode, Mok Hae-won is seen reading another Jeong Ho-seung’s poem ’To Daffodil’ <수선화에게>. The first stanza “Don’t cry. To be lonely is to be human. To go on living is to endure loneliness.” brings her back to her high school memories in which Eun-seob read out the exact same poem in front of their class.

울지 마라 외로우니까 사람이다 살아간다는 것은 외로움을 견디는 일이다 공연히 오지 않는 전화를 기다리지 마라

눈이 오면 눈길을 걸어가고 비가 오면 빗길을 걸어가라 갈대숲의 가슴 검은 도요새도 너를 보고 있다 가끔은 하느님도 외로워서 눈물을 흘리신다

새들이 나뭇가지에 앉아 있는 것도 외로움 때문이고 네가 물가에 앉아 있는 것도 외로움 때문이다 산 그림자도 외로워서 하루에 한 번씩 마을로 내려온다 종소리도 외로워서 울려 퍼진다

Don’t cry To be lonely is to be human. To go on living is to endure loneliness. Do not wait in vain for the phone call that never comes. When snow falls, walk on snowy paths, when rain falls, walk on rainy paths. A black-breasted longbill is watching you from the bed of reeds. Sometimes even God is so lonely he weeps. Birds perch on branches because they are lonely and you are sitting beside the stream because you are lonely. The hill’s shadow comes down to the village once a day because it, too, is lonely. And a bell’s chime resounds because it, too, is lonely.

Both poems ‘A Drink’ <술 한잔> and 'To Daffodil’ <수선화에게> stem from a poetry anthology by Jeong Ho-Seung, 'The Person I Love’ <내가 사랑하는 사람>. English-language readers can read the collected poems of Jeong Ho-seung in 'A Letter Not Sent’, translated by Brother Anthony of Taize and Susan Hwang. The poems are presented side by side in Korean and English.

03. ‘An Empty Field of Grass’

In the second episode, Mok Hae-won narrates the poem ’An Empty Field of Grass’ written by her aunt, Shim Myeong-yeo.

Sleet fell on the waters of Lake Hyecheon The time they spent together as lovers last night melted away completely Y thought of him, whom she left on the grass How much longer will I have to wander along the edges of pain to kill off all the memories? If memories of love were sleet or a snowman lost in the wrong season no regrets are needed I just want them gone Only disillusionment is left in the lonely grass And old love crosses the river of oblivion If only I could also cross this field of futility

04. ‘Natasha, the White Donkey, and Me’ <나와 나타샤와 흰 당나귀>

Natasha, the White Donkey, and Me is the poem that Jang Woo has planned to read for the book club in episode 4, but was distracted. This poem was written by Baek Seok (1912-1963), translated into English by Chae-pyong Song and Anne Rashid.

가난한 내가 아름다운 나타샤를 사랑해서 오늘밤은 푹푹 눈이 나린다

나타샤를 사랑은 하고 눈은 푹푹 날리고 나는 혼자 쓸쓸히 앉어 소주(燒酒)를 마신다 소주(燒酒)를 마시며 생각한다 나타샤와 나는 눈이 푹푹 쌓이는 밤 흰 당나귀 타고 산골로 가자 출출이 우는 깊은 산골로 가 마가리에 살자

눈은 푹푹 나리고 나는 나타샤를 생각하고 나타샤가 아니올 리 없다 언제 벌써 내 속에 고조곤히 와 이야기한다 산골로 가는 것은 세상한테 지는 것이 아니다 세상 같은 건 더러워 버리는 것이다

눈은 푹푹 나리고 아름다운 나타샤는 나를 사랑하고 어데서 흰 당나귀도 오늘밤이 좋아서 응앙응앙 울을 것이다

Tonight the snow falls endlessly because I, a poor man, love the beautiful Natasha. I love Natasha, the snow falls endlessly, and I sit alone, drinking rice wine. Drinking rice wine, I think: the night the snow falls endlessly I would like to ride, with Natasha, upon a white donkey to a remote, mournful mountain village and live in a cottage. The snow falls endlessly. I love Natasha. Natasha must be coming. She has already come in quietly and tells me: “You throw away such a thing as the world because it’s muddled, but going to a remote mountain doesn’t mean you lose it all.” The snow falls endlessly, the beautiful Natasha will love me, and somewhere the white donkey, too, will cry out, delighted with tonight.

05. ’Small Love Song’ <조그만 사랑 노래>

어제를 동여맨 편지를 받았다. 늘 그대 뒤를 따르던 길 문득 사라지고 길 아닌 것들도 사라지고 여기저기서 어린 날 우리와 놀아주던 돌들이 얼굴을 가리고 박혀 있다. 사랑한다 사랑한다, 추위 환한 저녁 하늘에 찬찬히 깨어진 금들이 보인다. 성긴 눈 날린다. 땅 어디에 내려앉지 못하고 눈뜨고 떨며 한없이 떠다니는 몇 송이 눈.

I received a letter which held yesterday. The path that had always trailed behind you suddenly disappeared, and everything that wasn’t the path went with it. Scattered stones which played with us as kids hide away their faces. I love you, I love you…and in the cold, clear night sky I see the steady cracking of gold. A thin snow falls. Unable to settle anywhere on the ground, a pair of flakes close their eyes and tremble as they drift together endlessly.

Eun-seob starts his day drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book. In episode 2, he is joined by Hae-won. He hands over his coffee and starts reading this book 'Every Day, A Cup of Poetry’ <매일, 시 한 잔>. One of the poems, 'Small Love Song’ <조그만 사랑 노래> by Hwang Tong-gyu is featured in episode 4.

Along with Bae Jung-ae’s pretty handwriting, this book introduces 79 poems of 56 prominent poets, including Baek Seok, Yoon Dong-ju, Natae-ju, Jeong Ho-seung, William B. Yates, and Khalil Gibran. Just like a cup of tea, a cup of poetry spreads warmth and comfort throughout one’s body. Read a poem slowly, pour it over, sip it again and enjoy it as if you were drinking tea.

06. ’Something Small and Trivial’ <아주 작고 하찮은 것이>

아주 작고 하찮은 것이 내 몸에 들어올 때가 있네

도꼬마리의 까실까실한 씨앗이라든가 내 겨드랑이에 슬쩍 닿는 민석이의 손가락이라든가 잊을 만하면 한 번씩 찾아와서 나를 갈아엎는 치통이라든가 귀틀집 처마 끝에서 떨어지는 낙숫물 소리라든가 수업 끝난 오후의 자장면 냄새 같은 거

내 몸에 들어와서 아주 작고 하찮은 것이 마구 양푼 같은 내 가슴을 긁어댈 때가 있네 사내도 혼자 울고 싶을 때가 있네 고대광실 구름 같은 집이 아니라 구름 위에 실컷 웅크리고 있다가 때가 오면 천하를 때릴 천둥 번개 소리가 아니라 아주 작고 하찮은 것이 내 몸에 들어오면 나는 견딜 수 없이 서러워져 소주 한잔 마시러 가네

소주, 아주 작고 하찮은 것이 내 몸이 저의 감옥인 줄도 모르고 내 몸에 들어와서 나를 뜨겁게 껴안을 때가 있네

Something small and trivial sometimes comes inside my body like the prickly seeds of a cocklebur or like Minseok’s fingers that slightly grazed my armpit or like a toothache that troubled me every time I forgot about it like the smell of jjajangmyeon that we ate after class Something small and trivial sometimes comes inside my body Something small and trivial doesn’t even know my body is its prison and comes inside my body to sometimes hug me intensely.

The poem ’Something Small and Trivial’ <아주 작고 하찮은 것이> on episode 5 stems from Ahn Do-hyun’s 1999 poem collection ’The Post Office by the Sea’ <바닷가 우체국> that deals with the reminiscent of average thing from the past in a sympathetic and romantic way.

07. <한 사람 때문에 힘이 다 빠져 나갔을>*

What did they say when they broke up? Did he carry her bag for her when they left? Why did that have to happen in the evening? Were they both used to seeing each other crying? We run at full speed seeking love somewhere at the end of this world But after giving up on that love, we return to where we were in the first place with all our energy drained from our bodies. Although we call that a breakup when we use up all our energy for that one person, we can call that love as well.

In episode 8, Myong-yeo recites prose entry #52 한 사람 때문에 힘이 다 빠져 나갔을 from Lee Byungryul’s travel prose book ’Wind Blows, I Like You’ <바람이 분다 당신이 좋다>. The main theme of the book is 'people’. The book has no table of contents or page numbers, allowing the readers to travel without a destination, just following the wind in this book.

* this poem is not translated in its entirety

08. ‘A Pitch-dark Night’ <머루밤>

불을 끈 방안에 횃대의 하이얀 옷이 멀리 추울 것 같이

개방위로 말방울 소리가 들려온다

문을 연다 머루빛 밤한울에 송이버슷의 내음새가 났다

The lights in the room are out. The white clothes hanging from the rack look distant and cold. I hear the sound of horse bells from the northwest. I open the door. The night sky is pitch-dark. There is a scent of pine mushrooms in the air.

In episode 11, Eun-seob recites the poem '머루밤 (meorubam)' that stem from Baek Seok’s poetry anthology ‘Deer’ <사슴>. First published in a limited edition of 100 copies in 1936, 'Deer' contained a total of 33 poems in four parts. The most remarkable characteristic of his poems is the use of dialect.

09. ’When we sit face to face’ <우리가 마주 앉아>

우리가 마주 앉아 웃으며 이야기하던 그 나무에는 우리들의 숨결과 우리들의 웃음소리와 우리들의 이야기 소리가 스며있어서, 스며있어서,

우리가 그 나무 아래를 떠난 뒤에도 우리가 그 나무 아래에서 웃으며 이야기 했다는 사실조차 까마득 잊은 뒤에도,

해마다 봄이 되면 그 나무는 우리들의 웃음소리와 우리들의 숨결과 말소리를 되받아 싱싱하고 푸른 새 잎으로 피울 것이다.

When we sat face to face smiling and talking in front of that tree, our breaths, our laughter, and our stories were permeated in that tree. They were permeated so deeply. And even after we forget the fact that we smiled and talked below that tree, every year in spring, that tree will remember our laughter, our breaths, and our voices to produce fresh and green new leaves.

The poem stems from ‘The Heart That Leaves You to the End’, the first poetry collection of South Korean poet, Na Tae-joo.

10. ’Love’ <사모>

사랑을 다해 사랑하였노라고 정작 할 말이 남아 있음을 알았을 때 당신은 이미 남의 사람이 되어 있었다.

불러야 할 뜨거운 노래를 가슴으로 죽이며 당신은 멀리로 잃어지고 있었다.

하마 곱스런 웃음이 사라지기 전 두고두고 아름다운 여인으로 잊어 달라지만 남자에게서 여자란 기쁨

아니면 슬픔다섯 손가락 끝을 잘라 핏물 오선을 그려 혼자라도 외롭지 않을 밤에 울어보리라 울어서 멍든 눈흘김으로 미워서 미워지도록 사랑하리라

한 잔은 떠나버린 너를 위하여 또 한잔은 너와의 영원한 사랑을 위하여 그리고 또 한 잔은 이미 초라해진 나를 위하여 마지막 한 잔은 미리 알고 정하신 하나님을 위하여

When I realized I hadn't had a chance to tell you that I love you with all my heart You were already in love with someone else.

I silenced the passionate serenade inside my heart as you drifted far away from me.

You told me to forget everything before your pretty smile vanished and only remember your beauty But to a man, a woman either signifies joy or sorrow

I will cut off the tips of my five fingers and draw a staff with my blood I will be alone tonight and I will shed tears With crying and bruised eyes I will hate you to love you

The first glass is for you, who left me Another glass for our eternal love And another glass is for me, who is already pathetic And the last glass is for the Almighty who foresaw and decided everything in advance.

#when the weather is fine #i'll find you on a beautiful day

7 notes · View notes

yaneyanedaze · 5 years

Text

The one that got away

Yandere! La Squadra x Reader x Passione Gang

A/N: Just to start off, there will be themes/mentions of suicide, blood and self harm in later chapters, so if that type of stuff bothers you, please scroll past! I don’t want to accidentally trigger anyone!

With that said, hope you like it!

—————————————————

It was a cool day, everything was going along as it normally would in the house hold. Today it was Pesci’s job to go to your room and wake you up. You were a part of La Squandra, but you felt in equal, Everyone else had nice fluffy beds, or TVs, or even a chair. All you had was a mattress on the floor, two covers and a closet, filled with clothes they picked out for you. Only things you were allowed to own was your medicine container and a water bottle, it annoyed you that they thought they could do this.

But today was the last day they would treat you like this.

When Pesci opened up the door with a nice “(y/n)~ It’s time to get up~!” He chimed, But it fell on deaf ears, your bed was empty, but the clothes you had on were still there.

But you weren’t.

Pesci has begun to freak out, and turned only to face Formaggio, who was coming to check and see what was taking him so long. “What’s taking so long? Where is she? Is she hiding again?” He immediately asked. Pesci shook his head, but a gust of wind was what answered his question.

You had Escaped.

By the time they finally figured out, you were already gone. Wind in your (h/c) hair, legs hurting from running so much, but you had to keep going. A few days ago, when you were allowed to go out, you had met another male. He called himself Bruno, he was nice and kind, and hell if he were a female, you would call him a mom. You managed to sneak and tell him about your situation, which he immediately tried to take you then. But later offered a better life, but you had to meet him a certain location. You weren’t going to let them hinder you, you wanted a free life. Panting heavily, you knew you had to go faster, because if they had let the Capo know, he would definitely be on your tail already. You shook your head, and finally reached the spot Bruno had told you to meet him, a small cafe in the middle of town. You could already see the male in the distance, cause he kinda did stand out. ———————————————————————

Bruno was reading a book calmly, he was waiting for the girl he had met a few days ago. He felt a pang in his chest when he saw some of the bruises on her, he wanted to save her right there on the spot. But he didn’t want to risk her getting punished because of him. “Mr.Bruno!” He raised his head slightly then quickly stood up. There she was, in a simple black dress and flats, He saw that she was visibly tired and Injured. Bruises littered her legs and arms, and her (h/c) hair was messy as well, but he didn’t care. He quickly pulled the young woman along, guiding her to a car and helping her in. There he learned more about her. She said her name was (Y/N)(L/N), and that she was a former member of a rival gang. But they began abusive her mentally and physically, telling her lies, hurting her friends. She felt like more of slave than a member. Bruno laid a gentle hand on her leg. Telling her “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me...” For once she finally felt safe in the arms of male..

Meanwhile, all hell was breaking lose with the La Squadra. Prosciutto was the next one to figure out that you were gone, he was the one that would usually take you out shopping and buy you things (against your will of course). And most of the outfits were not appropriate for a lady to wear. His reaction made Pesci step back in fear. “Where..Is she?...” he said slowly, a menacing aura surrounding him. “You know The Boss isn’t gonna like that his favorite Kitten has ran away..” He muttered. Pesci looked over at Formaggio who was searching your room to find any source of how you could’ve escaped, to his surprise, Your window was broken. Not just opened, like Pesci had said. “Well, Her window is broken not opened. She must’ve found something to break it.” “but boss made sure it was nothing in there! So how could she!”

Annoyed by all the noise, Ghiacchio, walked into the room rubbing his forehead. “Why is there so much noise!? I’m trying to re- Where’s (y/n)?” He immediately said, glancing around the room. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. She couldn’t have ran far, unless she ran to the town.” Prosciutto said, still observing the room before noticing a single piece of white paper, hidden under her bed. Reaching for it, he noticed it was a diary entry. Dated the day before, He began reading it aloud.

“Entry # I’ve lost count.

Today while out, I met this really sweet guy, he said I could call him B for the time being. He offered to help me get away from here! He told me to meet him somewhere close and he would help me, whisk me away from this torture. Though it seems too good to be true, I trusted him though, it was better than what I had now. He gave me a flower, and told me that I was beautiful, that I didn’t deserve this treatment and that I should’ve been treated as equal. He promised me a life with a loving family and a loving home. Tonight, I’m leaving this hell for good.”

“So, she’s gone rogue huh?”

Risotto stood in the doorway, he had just gotten in from a mission and was all bloody, clearly annoyed. “She’ll come back to us, nobody’s gonna want her when they figure out she was with us.” He said bluntly before snatching the paper. He turned it over and saw a drawing, one of what he believe to be (y/n), and this B male. He had black hair that was styled into a bob, and according to (y/n) he wore white and black. “She loves us guys, she wouldn’t run away without being manipulated into coming with them.” Risotto spoke again. He knew that (y/n) loves them, he knew that she wouldn’t betray them. He that she wouldn’t betray him.

“We’ll start looking for her tonight. She will not get away.”

“She will not leave us..”

———————————————————————

Hii guys! So this is going to be the second story on my blog you should look out for!~ it’s my first time writing for La Squadra, and I hope I capture some of them well.

Hope guys like it, and the question for today:

“Who’s your favorite member of La Squadra?”

Mines Risotto. I love my big goth bf lol

75 notes · View notes

angrylizardjacket · 6 years

Text

eyes on the horizon {Ben Hardy/Reader/Roger Taylor}

Summary: The reader’s pregnant; she knows she has to tell Ben and Roger eventually.

A/N: 1447 words. Discussions of the concept of pregnancy and pregnant!reader. (pokemon kids voice) What’s That Genre?! It’s [redacted].maybe fluff idk, a little drama, a little angst, have fun?? i lost the original prompt. i also have a few more ideas for pieces surrounding this (including an angst one which im a bit obsessed with omg) i’m also not too crash hot on the quality of this one so feedback would be appreciated!

From the moment you find out, you feel like you can hear a clock ticking. Perhaps it’s counting down; counting down as you wait in line at the drug store checkout after waking up nauseous for the fifth day in a row; counting down the two minutes you have to wait for that infuriating little piece of plastic to give you potentially life changing results. Roger complains sometimes about the world being too fast nowadays, too efficient, and the two minutes is up and a second blue plastic line appears, winding you though you’d been expecting it, you think, in some strange way, he might be right. Most likely, you think, it’s counting the seconds until you’re pretty sure your world’s going to change forever, and you might just lose two of the people you care most about.

The clock ticks loudest when you’re with them, when you’re watching Netflix together and Roger’s draped himself across both of you and you’re running your fingers through his hair. He smiles up at you, booping your nose as the next episode loads, and your answering smile is tight. The show’s theme song is playing before he can really worry about it.

It ticks when you’re sitting across from Ben at the table, and you’re both still in your pyjamas, he’s eating a banana and you’re nursing a coffee, and he catches you looking through him, rather than looking at him, focused on your own thoughts. He asks you what’s wrong, confused, even a little concerned; you’d been acting weird for almost a week now and he hadn’t wanted to push but-

But ‘it’s nothing, I’m fine’ comes more easily to you than the truth.

He leaves for his set, and you leave for yours, and Roger’s still asleep but there’s a fifty-fifty chance he’ll show up at around lunch at either one of your shoots, but part of you hopes he’ll spend the day with Ben if he does.

Things are going so well right now, and it’s the only thought in your mind when you’re waiting for your name to be called by the barista currently making the director’s coffee order. The rush of steam, the clinking of mugs, and the chatter of patrons makes a beat in your mind to the ticking only you can hear. You tap your foot in time to it, trying to talk yourself out of the conversation you knew you were going to have soon.

They both know you’re sick in the mornings, that nausea sometimes just hits you out of nowhere, that you definitely shouldn’t be working, but you’re claiming illness for the first part, quarantining yourself to the sofa, and it helps that your anxiety eases if they’re avoiding you just a little, to stay healthy; you claim capitalism as to why you keep working.

When you lie, tell them that you’re feeling better, that you’re getting over whatever was ailing you, Ben suggests a weekend away, away from the flat, away from the paparazzi, just away, another town for three days. Though of course hesitant, you can’t say no to him.

And you’d always favoured long car rides for uncomfortable conversations. You’re pretty sure it’s because the driver can’t look at you for too long, it makes you less anxious.

“So, hypothetically,” you began, worrying your bottom lip as you fix your gaze on the lights of the highway passing you by. Everyone’s a little tired, a little tense; it’s been a long week since you’d taken those three different pregnancy tests in the bathroom of the mall. By now, both men were well aware there was something you weren’t telling them.

“Hypothetically,” though it’s technically an agreement, you can tell Ben’s already unconvinced. By Roger’s hum alone you can hear his scepticism. After a moment of silence, apart from the hum of the car, you realise the ticking’s stopped; now or never.

“Do you guys, like, think about the future?” You ask, carefully casual; to no-one’s surprise, Roger’s the first to chime in.

“Obviously; I’m living some science-fiction fantasy, love, this is the future.” He snorted, but he just seemed amused more than anything, still unsure about how this led back to your mood from earlier.

“I don’t think that’s what she meant.” Ben said quietly, and you made a noise of agreement in the back of your throat. “About... about our future?” Ben’s watching the road, but his gaze on the steering wheel is white-knuckled; he’s already jumped to a million different conclusions, all of them leading to you breaking up with them in this car on this highway.

“The three of us.” You agreed easily, fidgeting and looking out the window.

“I figured we’d just see where it leads; why worry?” Roger says, surprisingly flippant, though he too seems to be slightly on edge, drawing similar conclusions to Ben. Which, at the time, you didn’t realise, far too stuck in your own head to notice their own anxieties.

“Well what if we had to?” You begin, but your eyes widen as you think about what you’d just said, how it sounded, and you finally read the atmosphere; “not worry, not really, just think about the future, that is.”

“You know we love you, right?” Ben’s voice is surprisingly soft, even a little desperate. Something about it, however, eases that quiet anxiety in your chest that you had been trying to ignore.

“Do you guys think about our future?” You ask, and in the silence that follows, Ben pulls off to the side of the road. When the car comes to a stop the three of you are plunged into almost total silence, and somehow this is the single most claustrophobic moment of your life. “I do. I have to.” You admit, and your next words are spoken softly; “I’m pregnant.”

It seems you’ve broken both of them; Ben looks winded and Roger just keeps blinking, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“You sure?” He finally asks. There’s that fear in your heart again, that anxiety, and tears in your eyes as you refuse to look at them, nodding quickly. You’d been so fucking afraid that they’d react badly, and you can feel your heart shattering just a little more-

“Holy shit are we gonna be parents?” Ben’s a little breathless, and sounds absolutely delighted at the prospect. “Like seriously, this isn’t a joke or anything, is it?”

“Does it sound like a damn joke?” You snap, reeling from the whiplash of the reactions, but when you look at them, both boys are practically bursting at the seams with excitement. Roger practically launching himself over the centre console to hug you, and when he finally wiggles his whole way through and is sitting with you in the back, you’re shaking, wrapped up with him, pressing your lips to his shoulder. It takes you feeling cool air on your back to realise Ben’s gotten out of the driver’s seat to join the two of you. He’s laughing, almost disbelieving, and he kisses Roger’s cheek before wrapping his arms around your stomach, solid and reassuring at your back.

“Holy shit.” Ben murmurs, and you feel Roger laugh. It makes you smile, makes you feel safe in ways you hadn’t realised you’d needed.

“I know!” He crowed, giving you a little squeeze, and it’s enough to snap you out of your shock to let out a giggle. “God, we’ve gotta think about so much- why are their heads so soft?” Roger squints as he babbles, mostly coherent, still hugging you, his arms trapped between you and Ben where the other blonde refuses to let either of you go.

“That’s the first question you have?” Ben asks, and Roger hums thoughtfully, before immediately voicing his next thought.

“No; do we know which of us is the official dad?” He’s blunt about it, and despite the situation, the topic, and your very arrangement, you find yourself blushing as you finally sit up and admit that you don’t. After a beat of awkwardness, Ben rests his chin on your shoulder, the two of you watching Roger as he considered the situation.

“Does it matter?” He asked, and Roger’s face split into a grin.

“Not really.”

Of course there’s so much to discuss; a movie star, a time-travelling drummer, and a personal assistant? There’s a lot that needs to be worked out, to be considered and talked about between the three of you, and you know it’s going to be hard, that it’s going to take work. You’re willing to put in that work. You’re all willing to put in that work. But for tonight, the three of you are content to celebrate; the future can wait a little while longer.

#ben hardy #roger taylor #ben hardy imagine #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy x reader #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy x reader x roger taylor #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #borhap imagine #borhap cast #borhap cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

408 notes · View notes

goodmythicalshipping · 5 years

Text

Three Wishes (4/4) - “A Whole New World”

Greetings, Mythical Beasts! We’re finally here! The final chapter of my Aladdin-themed fic, “A Whole New World,” is now available to read below as well as on my AO3 page. 😊

This was a lot of fun to write. If you have a fic prompt for me, feel free to hit me up in my ask box and I’ll try my best to get to it eventually (I do these in my free time). Thanks for reading!

Summary: In Pre-Islamic Arabia, a poor street rat, Rhett, struggles to survive in an unforgiving and discriminatory world… that is, until he comes across a rather mythical-looking lamp. Having concealed a deep secret his whole life, his entire world is soon changed forever by a certain bespectacled genie.

<< Chapter Three

Rhett didn’t sleep much, for he was far too eager for what the day would hold. Cracking open his drowsy eyes, he saw Link’s face floating in its typical place of about six inches in front of his own.

“Wakey, wakey, master!” he bellowed, reaching down to lift the tall man up from his horizontal position in bed, a phenomenon Rhett wasn’t used to since he normally slept on the hard floor.

“Nnngh, don’t wanna,” Rhett mumbled sleepily, eyelids fluttering half-open as the genie stood him up.

“Well, y’know if it were up t’me, I’da let you sleep in,” Link explained. “But m’pretty sure some guard came around and knocked on yer door this morning for ya, so I at least let you rest until the daylight arose.”

“Well, that’s mighty kind of ya,” Rhett quipped, letting out a big yawn shortly after. “Guess that means I gotta start my long day of wedding plannin’, huh?”

“Yeah… guess so,” Link replied funereally. Rhett frowned at the genie’s solemn tone, but soon began getting ready. The quicker he was ready, the quicker he could make his remaining wishes. He decided last night that he wanted to wait until he met up with the princess to make them.

As soon as Rhett was ready to go, Link waved goodbye to him.

“I guess I’ll see ya when ya get back?” he asked sepulchrally.

“Not a chance,” Rhett vetoed. “Yer comin’ with me.”

“What?! Are you nuts?” Link clamored surprisedly. “News flash, beard-o: to refresh yer memory, I’m not a human. You might be able to walk around the palace grounds all hunky-dory, but me? I’m practically a ghost! Should anyone see me, that would be a major violation of the Great Genie Code! The other genies would exile me from the Society of Magic Beings for the rest of eternity!”

“Oh, really? Do you even know any other genies?”

“...is that important?” Link shifted, embarrassed that his fib backfired.

“Yes,” Rhett laughed. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, there’s someone I’d like ya to meet.”

“Fine, Rhett,” he answered. “But if anyone else catches sight of me, I’m deductin’ one of yer wishes.”

“I think y’might regret that,” Rhett smiled as they left the room. “I’ve got a plan.”

---------

They arrived at high noon to meet the princess in the same garden where her and Rhett had first met. She sat there peacefully, though with an air of abhorrence at what was to come in her near future, despite Rhett’s reassurance. She stroked her tiger, Enzo, lovingly as she noticed Rhett approach her.

“Good morning, Prince Rhett,” she greeted him. “I trust you slept well?”

“Indeed, princess,” he answered. “Tell me, princess: are we alone? I have somethin’ I’d been meanin’ to tell you about.”

“Well, I’ll inform you that if it is that you wish to go back on your word of not wanting to marry, then I will be forced to ignore you,” she teased, earning a soft smile from the tall man.

“No, of course not, princess. I mean… no offence.”

“None taken. Now what is it?” she asked curiously.

“Well, that would depend on what yer answer was to my previous question,” Rhett bantered.

Stevie whipped her head around, searching for any sign of life besides them nearby. Once the coast was clear, she turned back to him and nodded, allowing Rhett to open his satchel, revealing a compressed, blue genie inside.

“Stevie, I’d like ya t’meet-”

“OH, MY GOODNESS!” Stevie remarked, nearly falling backwards into the fountain before Rhett caught her arm, administering a growl from Enzo in defense. She quickly regained her composure to silence the large cat, and peered into the bag to find Link’s grinning face staring back at her.

“Well, I mean, I wasn’t expectin’ the warmest of welcomes, but I ain’t that ugly, am I?” Link vocalized, causing Rhett’s face to burn wildly with affection.

“No, you certainly aren’t,” Rhett replied as a reflex, growing pinker as he realized what he had just admitted. “Um, Princess, as I was sayin’, I’d like ya t’meet the solution to all of our problems. This is Link.”

Link accordioned himself out of the satchel and onto the ground, propping himself upright to extend a long, ghostly hand toward the bewildered girl in front of him.

“How d’ya do, Princess Stevie? It’s an honor t’meet yer acquaintance,” he said calmly, bowing to her. She hesitated before curtsying in response.

“Um, the same to you, Sir… um, and what title do you respond to?”

“Oh, me?” Link pointed to himself, preparing himself to ignite his trusty imaginary fireworks. “Well, I am none other than the GREAT GENIE, THE O’ POWERFUL ONE-”

“LINK! Did you forget where we are?!” Rhett stopped him, reeling the overzealous genie back in as he cleared his throat.

“Ahem, my apologies Princess. It’s not often m’introduced to other humans than my master,” Link explained coyly, drawing a small giggle from her.

“A genie, you say?” Stevie inquired, raising an eyebrow. “And what tricks do you perform under that designation, Sir Link?”

“Anythin’ you want! Well, as long as it’s within the rules of conduct.”

“The truth is, Stevie, that, well,” Rhett admitted. “...m’not actually a prince. Link is the whole reason I’m even here. He turned me into one.”

“I believe you think too lowly of me at times, Prince Rhett,” Stevie grinned. “...for I had already known that fact.”

“How?!” Rhett proclaimed. Was she in on his secret this whole time?

“Well, y’ain’t exactly Prince Charming there, beanstalk,” Link chimed in, prompting Rhett to elbow him in the side, which ended up just phasing through the genie’s translucent skin. “Plus, I’m sure the lady here has seen many a prince come and go through these gates, and you were probably an exception.”

“I would agree with that sentiment,” Stevie confirmed, still smiling.

“Well, regardless,” Rhett said flatly, getting back on topic. “I have a plan to get us what we really want from this experience.”

He then turned to look Link in the eyes. “All of us.” Link turned a deep sapphire at his intense gaze, as Stevie perked up.

“Very well. What is your plan?”

“Well, in short, it appears this world we live in is one filled with prejudice,” Rhett recited. “One driven by beliefs without basis and harsh punishment toward anyone who dares defy it. I come from a place where a mere bias is symbolism for life and death. I don’t have the choice to live freely, as I was born. Nor do any of us. And thus, I’d like to reinvent this narrow-minded world into one of harmony and liberty for all, not just m’self. Doing so on my own accord would do nothin’ to protect the ones I love and who have supported my life’s journey thus far.”

It was at this moment that Rhett took Link’s luminous hands into his own for the first time, staring deeply into his cyan oculi with determination.

“If no one is opposed, I’d like to wish to live a humble life in a world without discrimination or inequitable rules, no matter how one lives, loves or exists in it. Justice for all… can y’make that happen, Link?”

With a single crystalline tear treading down his cheek, Link curled his own fingers around the mortal man’s as the princess looked on, getting emotional herself.

“Y’realize that if y’go through with this, y’can’t be a prince anymore, right?” Link choked out half-jokingly, emitting a chuckle from Rhett.

“Yes. S’alright, Link, I’d prefer to live happily ever after over living luxuriously.”

And with that, Link nodded excitedly and released Rhett’s hands, floating up high to perform a spellbinding dance.

“One tall order, comin’ up!” Link hollered over the swift winds encircling him. As he continued to spin in midair, a bright light omitted from his body and flashed explosively, causing the mortals beneath him to shield themselves. As the genie gradually descended back to earth, they uncovered their eyes to look at him, observing that nothing around them had changed.

“...Did… did it work?” Stevie whispered after a beat, cautiously peering around.

“I don’t know,” Rhett replied in a similar fashion, raising his eyebrows to the beaming genie in front of them.

“What’s say we go find out?” Link suggested.

---------

The three of them went through the back entrance of the palace to approach the sultan, who sat peacefully on his throne. He did not see them at first, but quickly turned around as he heard the clack of the mortals’ shoes on the tile floors.

“Hello, father. I was simply wonderin-” Stevie began before he cut her off, as usual.

“Ah, Stevie! Just the person I wanted to see, and I see you’ve brought Rhett!” he exclaimed excitedly. All three of them frowned at his enthusiasm… had the wish not worked?

“Stevie, come closer. I wanted to discuss something important with you,” he continued. Stevie slowly moved toward her father, momentarily abandoning the tall man and the immortal one who hid in his satchel.

“Stevie,” the sultan began again, reaching his wrinkled hands out to meet hers, which she accepted. “I have been thinking very deeply about your marriage arrangements going forward…”

Stevie tried her best to prevent the tears that were forming behind her eyes from falling, but she was unable to keep one from sliding down her porcelain cheek. The sultan ignored this and continued.

“...and I think it would be in your best interest, as well as mine, if you held the ability to choose the person you wish to marry.”

She didn’t know what to think, let alone do once those words escaped her father’s mouth. All she could do was let the salty drops wildly cascade from her eyes, her vision soon becoming blurred. The young princess was hardly cognizant as she clutched desperately onto the sultan in overwhelming gratefulness.

“There is too much at risk in arranging your marriage to a prince of a neighboring land, not just for the sake of our kingdom, but your safety, happiness and human rights,” he continued. “I only want what’s best for you, and now I realize what is best is what you desire, not myself. I’d like to think the same for all who inhabit our land.”

“T-thank you, father,” Stevie stuttered, unable to speak fluidly as she sobbed into his shirt. The sultan wrapped his fragile arms around the crying girl, flashing Rhett a small smile in what the tall man could only translate as sympathy. He couldn’t be bothered by his silent apology, however, for he now felt a staggering wave of alleviation that his wish had come true. He ultimately decided to give the sultan and his daughter some privacy, quietly slipping out the front gate into seclusion.

The second he was completely alone, Link burst out of his satchel and tackled the mortal man onto the ground in glee, laughing passionately. In response, Rhett’s face lit up instantly, finally coming to terms that he was now free to live the life he had always wanted.

However, there was still one person who needed to be set free.

“Link,” he stated after a long minute of hearty laughter, to which the genie popped his head up at him adorably.

“We did it, master! The world as we know it is at peace, and we saved the princess just like ya wanted!”

“We sure did. Couldn’t have done it without you, Link,” Rhett thanked him, to which the genie turned his head away sheepishly to attempt to hide his jocund expression.

“Aw, shucks. It was nothin’ really,” Link spluttered, just as Rhett put a hand to his jaw to guide his face back to him.

“I think there’s only one thing left t’do now,” he addressed in a lowered tone, once again taking one of the genie’s hands in his own, lacing their fingers.

“Y’cant tell me you want me to go already!” Link joshed. “I mean, where’s a soon-to-be-former genie to go around these parts? There’s no guarantee I’ll survive out there on my own! M’not built like you, y’know. I also don’t got no animal sidekick or anything.”

“Who said ya have t’be alone?” Rhett lilted coolly, the two of them now fully aware of the sentimental moment they were sharing. Link couldn’t help the wide smirk that budded on his face.

“Well then… what’re ya waitin’ for, master? Say the magic words.”

“Link,” Rhett said dramatically, taking a step back. “For my final wish, I wish to set you free.”

What happened next was a series of rapid events, as a whirlwind of smoke and luster transformed Link from his mythical genie state to a mortal man. Rhett watched in awe as his royal blue skin faded to a lively tan color. His phantasmal tail morphed into human limbs, and his eyes, which had remained a bright sky blue, widened as his newly-formed feet touched the ground for the first time. Once he finished converting forms, he wobbled a bit, getting accustomed to having to balance on two legs. He shot his face back to Rhett, about to speak when he suddenly crouched down and began coughing violently.

“Link, what’s the matter?!” Rhett questioned, rushing to his side as Link let out a large gasp.

“What- what is this sensation?! I’ve, hnngh, n-never felt this before... there’s so, ha- much wind…”

“Wind where?” Rhett prodded.

“Ha, in m-my… nose… inside of me,” he puffed.

After hearing this, Rhett began laughing vociferously, pressing his forehead into Link’s neck to hide his amused visage.

“W-what’s so funny?!” Link erupted.

“That’s called breathing, Link,” Rhett finally uttered, beaming at the other man. “That wind is air. It’s somethin’ we humans have t’do to live.”

“Oh,” Link muttered, humiliated by his revelation. He was quickly shaken out of it as Rhett helped him up by his arms and brought him into his own, leaning closely into his face for a change.

“This better?” Rhett said gently, glancing his eyes down to his lips. Feeling himself relax to his touch, Link simpered back.

“Better than I ever could’ve imagined,” he responded, and with that, they finally met their lips in a tender kiss. Soon losing themselves in the moment, they moved together in perfect harmony, with Link slinking his hands up to caress the back of Rhett’s head and pulling him even closer. It was as if their lips were built to fit the other’s, both of their bodies tingling with pleasure. Link felt the warmth of Rhett’s lips on his own, a new feeling that he wanted to savor for the rest of his mortal life. They stood there taking each other in for what felt like an eternity, neither wanting to let go.

Alas, Link was not yet fully acquainted with his recently-acquired lungs, and thus stopped to breathe. Resting their heads together and gazing into each other’s eyes, Link regained his composure and piped up after a long while.

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask you somethin’, Rhett,” he queried. “If ya hadn’t used yer last wish to set me free… what would’ya have wished for?”

Smiling amorously at the shorter man, Rhett once again captured Link’s lips in another sweet kiss before answering.

“I already got my wish.��

9 notes · View notes

bounnostra · 5 years

Text

white violet O bams O grand jackass trial 1 O re: ana, rookie

There were more than a few tense moments after Bams had said her - well, Ana's - piece, eyes flicking around the room to see how her words were settling. But as usual, the story in her head turned out to be much, much more overblown than the actual events unfolding- sure, Duck chiming in with the fact that Benny did actually have some kind of codename after all earned a few surprised blinks from Bams before Ana batted the ball right back, but honestly? Not too bad for an infodump that was sounding more and more ready to be picked apart the longer she had to look at it in the open air.

"I still kinda think the Grand Manager wouldn't be too much of a stickler for all the rules as they're plainly stated, given that it also seems a thing about this game to try and draw out drama. At the very least keep things aligned with the general themes Gamb keeps going on about, like friendship is magic or whatever. If we had someone here every single trial just being like okay shut up. Heads down. Votes ready. No deviation from discussing the murder. Please keep arms and legs inside the murder vehicle at all times. One, that would be super obvious of them being on definitely not our side. Two, it would make their game pretty boring, and why do you even set something like this off if not for sick kicks of the not cool kind. My assumption is honestly that the kind of stuff they would be trying to prevent is outside information sharing and... stuff on the scale of what Gamb allowed to happen last time. Huge game derailing stuff, more so than just starting an ethics argument and dodging a vote in here. If they'd gotten wind of what Amita and... Rita were up to, for instance. Bet they would've had something to say about that. This would be the point where I half joke about Masaki being the Don and trying to stop them, but I quite value having my head."

"...Look. I'll be blunt about it. It's what I do. The people I want to lean most towards voting for are the ones starting to match the more solid points we've talked about already. Someone who might have the means to set up an environment like this- a hotel in the middle of abandoned fucking nowhere, with presumably supernatural touches, and the ability or influence or time to get settled in an organisation or plain money to redirect an entire Summit class. Interfering with Summit or otherwise. Someone sounding aligned with any of the opinions Gamb's been going on about too. There's less solid ideas we have to roll around as well, like the idea they're in a relationship and that they don't fit in with our original group in whatever ideas Summit had about bringing us in, but... but those ones feel more in danger of forcing an idea we want onto someone. Like we've been saying. God knows we've done enough of that."

Where her tone had been previously matter of fact and straight to the point, now it started to slow down and ease up the pressure just that little bit, Bams mouth twisting to give her expression a more concerned air.

"I'd just... rather we vote for someone who at least sounds suspicious so we can stop stewing on any of those particular patches of grief and get over it with faster. Rather than possibly burning that later for playing more diplomatic. You know. Not like I wanna start fights with this, but... get the sense we, uh. Have one coming anyway."

#boun #ch4 #mm trial #obama #submission

1 note · View note

aliensforleaders · 6 years

Text

Electric River - Part One

Pairing: Rami Malek x OC

Summary: Vic is in a band. Not the most famous band, but you could hardly tell by the way she acts. She gives no one the time of day, and her band is her family. She loves her life, and the rush of performing, but she meets someone who may change the way she sees the world.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol

A/N: So I had this idea awhile ago and have finally got around to writing it. If it doesn’t do well then I won’t continue it. If you like it let me know because I love feedback! Enjoy!

Victoria stood in front of the mirror studying her outfit. She turned every which way, checking every bit. The tight black long sleeve shirt she wore made her look sleek and enticing in a way she loved. The jeans she wore were just as tight and just as black, and she wondered if it was too much black. Preposterous. She ruffled up her short, choppy hair and smirked in the mirror at herself.

“Vic! Come on, we’re on in five!” Alex, her guitarist called from the doorway of the very small dressing room.

Vic was in a band. It wasn’t a very well known band, but it fueled the fire that burned inside her. The need to be loved, to hold a room at attention, to feel the hot desire coming from the crowd as she strutted around on stage. They wanted her, wanted to be her, and she couldn’t get enough of it. But of course that only took over when she grabbed hold of that mic stand and the lights came on, all focused on her.

She had known Alex for almost five years now. They had started the band together in high school and wrote songs together. It didn’t take long for the two of them to realize that Vic was going to be the singer. She had the perfect alto range to sing the kind of music they wanted to make, and as for Alex, the things she could do with that guitar were ground breaking.

A few years later they found Audrey, who would become their bassist and keyboardist, and James, who would become the drummer. They were now known as Electric River, and had officially been playing together for about three years and things were going pretty well. They mostly played at local bars and clubs and sometimes festivals, but when they did the room was theirs. As soon as Vic stepped onto the stage it was as if she’d hypnotized the whole room, and they couldn’t look away. They would sway with the music like it was a profound religious experience, reaching their hands up towards the sky.

Vic took one more look in the mirror.

“Go get ‘em, baby.” she said out loud to herself, and jogged out of the room.

The band stood to the side of the stage and waited for their name to be announced. Everyone was filled with adrenaline already. Alex kept cracking her knuckles, Audrey had her fingers laced together behind her head, James was shaking out his arms vigorously, and Vic jumped up and down in place.

“Wow, Vic you could be a tambourine with all those fucking necklaces.” James laughed and she flipped him off, flashing a wide grin.

Suddenly the sound of someone tapping a mic could be heard. “Hello? Alright everyone we have some live music for you tonight by a local band called Electric River! Let’s welcome them onto the stage!” Everyone clapped and cheered.

Alex ran out first, then Audrey, then James. Vic stayed behind as the lights all went out. She slowly stepped up onto the stage. That was when James came in with a heavy drum beat and Audrey followed with an almost xylophone like tune on the keyboard, her bass hanging from her body. The lights brightened slightly into a deep blue and Vic stalked up to the mic stand like a predator to it’s prey. Just before she began to sing, Alex came in with her guitar and just like that, the hypnosis began.

The music was heavy and deep, the lights were dark and eerie, and a thin fog filled the room. Vic grabbed hold of the mic stand with passion and leaned into it. Her hips moved perfectly with the beat James was laying out and her eyes closed as her head rolled back. Her head came forward again and her eyes opened slowly, meeting with a strangers in the crowd.

He had dark curly hair and a set of eyes that could melt even the coldest heart. He watched her as the lyrics fell from her lips effortlessly.

When Vic performed she never really focused on any one person for too long. She may have exuded an enormous amount of confidence, but deep down anxiety had a hold on her. But tonight was different because when she met those eyes it was suddenly as if he was the only one in the room, and the rest of this performance was a ritual only to draw him near. She was too deep in this trance to question why this night of all nights was different, and why these eyes of all eyes had captured her so quickly.

So she threw caution to the wind, pulled her mic off the stand and walked to the edge of the stage. She knelt down on one knee reaching into the crowd and let them grab at her arm slowly. She looked down at them smirking as she sang, and then her eyes made their way back to his, looking up through her eyelashes. The now purple lights lit him up like an angel. He starred back at her, something shining in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. She stood up straight, slowly stepping backwards. This was definitely a ritual of some kind and they were both giving it everything they could from this far away.

The band finished the rest of the set and gathered at the front of the stage to take a few bows. They took their last and Vic broke eye contact with the man in the crowd before jogging off stage with everyone else.

“Hey Alex did you see the guy Vic was eye fucking?” Audrey jokingly questioned.

Vic came into the dressing room last, hearing the tail end of what she said.

“Yeah what was that, Vic? You never usually do that. I mean I’m not complaining because you gave a hell of a performance, but it was just a little uncharacteristic.”

Vic rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah I uh, I’m not sure. He just kind of grabbed my attention.”

“Well from the looks of it, he might be grabbing something else later.” James chimed in from the corner.

“Hey, James. Fuck off.” Vic stated matter of factly.

He just laughed and fell back into his chair.

Vic sat down in front of the mirror and began to fix her makeup. Alex walked over and sat next to her.

“Are you going to go find him?” Alex inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“No, dear, but I am going to have a drink.” She turned to Alex and winked as she stood up, making her way to the door.

Vic made her way through the club to the bar. As she walked through the crowds of people, some reached out to pat her on the back, complement the show, and some guy tried to ask for her number, but the look she shot his way told him to stop talking if he wanted to live to see the morning.

She knew the bar tender by now and he had already started making her favorite, a vodka soda.

“Hey Vic! Good show tonight.”

“Hey thanks, Luke!” he handed Vic her drink and leaned an elbow on the counter.

“In fact some guy came asking about you.” he shot a glance over to a ‘C’ shaped booth in the corner.

Vic turned slightly and saw the man from the crowd sitting alone in the booth looking down at his phone.

“Oh yeah? What’d he ask about.” She turned back to Luke, taking a swig of her drink.

“Just what your deal was. If you come here a lot, and if you ever talk to the people here.” he explained.

“And you told him?”

“Told him to not even bother. That you don’t just talk to any old average joe.” he laughed and so did she.

“Always lookin’ out for me, Luke. Well I guess today’s theme is uncharacteristic. Wish me luck.” she stepped away from the bar, making her way towards the booth.

She slid into the booth leaving plenty of space between them. He had to earn fewer space.

“So I hear you were asking about me.” Vic said, resting her arms on the back of the booth.

He looked up from his phone, somewhat startled and then a little embarrassed.

“Uh yeah. I guess you caught me.” he laughed nervously, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Oh don’t worry. I’m not here to kill you. It’s simply pure interest. Not many people ask about me.” she stated.

“I find that hard to believe.” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“That may be, but it’s very true. I mean yes I look like this,” she gestured to herself, ”but I assure you that they know not to bother.”

He looked taken aback at her very confident comment on her appearance, but also completely amused.

“Yeah that’s what the bar tender said.” he sat back and crossed his arms. “So why are you talking to me then. I mean if I am just any old average joe?”

“Oh but you aren’t, dear. I saw the way you watched me with those eyes.” she smirked. “Nobody catches my attention the way you did.” Her bravado began to dissolve slowly as she realized it was unnecessary with him.

“I’ve never seen anyone do that to a crowd of people. They were all in slow motion. They were yours. You moved as if nothing could touch you, and for a moment I believed it, but then you looked at me and I could see you.”

As he so eloquently explained this to her, she felt something that she only ever felt when she was alone. Vulnerability. It scared her, but she had to explore this.

“And what did you see?” she asked, fiddling with one of her necklaces.

“Beauty. You are beautiful.” he smiled sweetly.

It took her a moment to respond, as no one ever spoke to her this way. She shook her head and cleared her throat, sitting up straight.

“Would you like to get dinner with me sometime?” she asked, letting her walls down a little.

“I would love to.” he beamed. “Oh and I suppose you should know my name is Rami.”

“Vic. But you probably already know that.” she chuckled softly and so did he.

#rami malek #rami malek x reader #rami malek fic #rami malek fanfiction #rami malek x oc #electric river fic

12 notes · View notes